


BY R.M. ELY 

















































Class ~PZ3 

Book_£52SA 

copightN o __Eu^. 


COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 
























/ 


/ 

V 

EVANGELINE 

of 

OLE VIRGINIA 


By 


R. M. ELY 




□ 


3 

) 

3 

> 



JOHN P. MORTON & COMPANY 

INCORPORATED 

Louisville, Kentucky 
1923 




.E5AS1- 

Em 

C^cvj^-^2. 


Copyright 1923 
By R. M. ELY 



JUN -4 I323 v 

©C1A711030 



/ 

TO 

THE OLD SOUTH 


IN 

VIRGINIA 



THE CARDINAL 


Thou art no pompous prelate of the woods; 

Thou art a troubadour who sings of love; 

In thy red heart sweet dreams of romance move 
And tune its strings to all Dan Cupid’s moods. 

And then the marvelous music pours in floods 
Adown the emerald reaches of the grove, 

Where all the shy and furtive wild things rove, 
And grave-eyed Silence haunts the solitudes. 

Thou art a lover who for love’s dear sake 
Hast flung aside the seal of priestly vows, 

And now dost use the magic of thy art 
To thrill with ecstasy thy russet spouse, 

And to my love’s sweet ear my message take, 
Thou crimson avant courier of my heart! 


I love the mountains wreathed in mist, 
The twilight skies of amethyst, 

The groves of ancient oaks sun-kissed 
In old Virginia. 

I love the modest maidenhood, 

The deference paid to womanhood, 
The chivalric and gentle blood, 

In old Virginia. 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 

CHAPTER I 

“Sing me a song of the sunny South— 

Something of bygone days.” 

Mammy Chris sat by the nursery window of an old 
colonial mansion with little Evangeline Lee in her lap. 

“Oh, Mammy, Mammy, see the great big snowflakes 
dancing in the air! Aren’t they soft and beautiful?” 

“Yas, honey, deys bury purty, bury purty,” said 
Mammy absentmindedly. 

“And do see the little redbird over there in the pine 
tree! Is he like the Cock Robin the Sparrow killed with 
his bow and arrow?” 

“I ’spec’ so, honey.” 

“Did the arrow hurt when it went into his little 
heart? And did he sure ’nuf die? Did he, Mammy?” 
and tears glistened in the blue-grey eyes. 

“Yo’ knows, honey, dem story-books nevah pets de 
finishin’ wu’ds at de las’. I’ll jes’ hev tub write um all 
ovah sum o’ dese days. Now w’en dey tuk ’im tuh de 
grabe, lies lil bride wife cry so dat de tyrus fell on hes 
haid, an’ he corned tuh life an' dey lib ez happy in dey 
nes’ in de trees evali attah dat. ” 

Mammy could mend little stories and little hearts 
just as well as Evangeline’s little stockings. 

“Uncle Isom says something is going to ’sprise you 
when you see a redbird. I just guess it is Santa Claus. 
Mammy, can you see the little stars in the snowflakes?” 

“No, honey, muh eyes is too ole.” 


2 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


4 ‘That first Christmas when the Christ-child came, 
there surely was snow on the ground and everywhere to 
make it white and beautiful for Him?” 

“I ’spose so, honey.” 

“Just think of all the little teensy stars in the snow, 
and the winky twinkling stars in the sky—and the great 
big star that stood over the stable! Mother read me in 
the book that’s named my name that the blue sky was 
the great meadows of heaven, and the stars were the 
angels’ forget-me-nots. Sometimes they drop them, for 
I have seen them fall. Guess they throw the faded ones 
away. Mother has some real, new, true stories to tell 
me the night before Christmas, but you tell me one now. 
You know you promised. Tell me about Father, ’cause 
the tears won’t let Mother tell me.” 

“An’ yo’ wan’ me tuh tell yo’ ’bout Marse Robert, 
honey? Wal, wal, po’ lil chile,” and Mammy’s eyes 
began to mist and then to shine for, like all colonial 
Mammies, she loved to tell family history. 

“Marse Robert’s ma—muh lady Mahg’ret—wuz de 
sweetes’ lil mite ob uh ’oman yo’ evah see, so gentle an’ 
quiet an’ beau’ful. She died when he wuz bawn, honey. 

“Marse Morris—Marse Robert’s pa—wuz sicli uh 
puhfec’ gem’n an’ so han’sum. He wuz uh gre’t soljali 
in de wah, an' she so proud o’ him w’en he come home 
tuh see huh, lookin’ so gran’. Marse Robert wuz dey 
fust an’ only chile,—bawn nex’ tuh de las’ yeah ob de 
wall. W’en huh die, hit neahly killed Marse Morris. 
Aftah while he take Isom an’ go back tuh de wah tuh 
fo’git he troubles, he say, an’ fight fo’ de Souf, an’ fo’ us 
all. ’Twa’n’t many months ’fo’ Isom fotcli ’im home 
’bout daylight un mawnin’. He wuz shot in de side. I 
ken mos’ see ’im now lay dah wid hes face white ez snow, 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


3 


an’ he gre’t, soulful eyes roamin’ ’roun’ lookin’ fo’ muh 
lady. Pin’ly he stre’ch out he a’ms an’ say, ‘Mahg’ret— 
dahlin'—I—’ve—come—home.’ Ole Missus kiss ’im 
sof’ly on he fohhaid wid de tyrus rollin’ down huh 
cheeks. We buried ’im wid de flag ’bout ’im, yondah 
in de ole Leeland grabeyahd by muh lady. 

“Marse Robert’s gran’ma an’ me raise ’im in dis big 
’ouse. Missus teach ’im while he lil, nen uh gem’n f’om 
Chahlottesville wuz he teachah till he go tuh de ’Vus’ty 
o’ Virgini tuh school. He always corned home in de 
summah an’ ride out obah de plantation tuh show de 
niggahs ’bout dey wu’k. Attah he bin dah free yeahs, 
an’ wuz home fo’ Chris’mus, Missus gib ’im uh pahty dat 
las’ uh hull week. I nevah see sich uh proud niggah ez 
Isom wuz den. He hab on de sojah clo’s Marse Morris 
gib ’im, an’ rah way back. I knowed he be layed up 
wid rum at is attah dat. 

“Wal, de ladies all wuz crazy ’bout Marse Robert, 
’kaze he han’sum ez he pa, an’ jes’ ez polite; but he care 
nary bit in grain fo’ any o’ dem, ’cep’ Miss Virgini 
Legend, hes roommate’s sistah. Honey, dey hev dances o' 
de Virgini reel, an’ dinin’s, an’ sleigh rides; an’ so on 
fru de hull week one long good time. De las’ day o’ de 
pahty Miss Legend come down stahs an’ lay huh cap 
on de table while huh put on huh gloves. Dey wuz goin’ 
hossback ridin’. Marse Robert step up an’ reach up he 
han’. She look up right quick an’ see she undah de 
mistletoe. Den she do blush an’ say, 1 Please, don’t.' 

“He say, ‘Pahdon me, Miss Legend, I hev nevah 
kissed any lady, an’ I didn’ inten’ tuh now, doh hit’s 
temptin’, I assho yo’. I dis wanted tuh lease de spray 
dat’s fallen in yo’ hyah, but hit looks so purty dat I’ll 
not boddah hit.’ 


4 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


“‘Oh, no,’ say she, ‘some uddah young man may not 
be as—as—, ’ den she stop. 

“ ‘As what?’ say he. 

‘“As gem’nly as yo’,’ says she, takin’ out de spray 
an’ fro win’ hit on de flo’. He pick hit up, an’ pin hit on 
hes coat. 

“De nex’ night, attah all de pahty gone, Marse 
Robert settin’ by de fah studin’. De yo’-log nuhly buhn 
out. I see ’im take somepin’ f’om uh lil book in he 
pocket, an’ look an’ look at hit. Um—umph! What yo’ 
tink hit wuz? Dat spray o’ mistletoe. 

“Uh yeah ur so attah he gradivated at de ’Vus’ty, 
dey wuz uh big weddin’ an’ uh big infah, an’ Marse 
Robert fotch Miss Legend tuh Leeland ez he bride. 
Miss Virgini Lee huh wuiz den, honey.” 

“That was my mother?” 

“Yas, hit wuz. An’ two yeahs attah dat Marse 
Robert gone tuh Baltimo’ on some bus’ness. An’ de day 
fo’ Chris mus we hev Miss Virgini’s room all dec’rated 
mighty purty, ’cause we’s lookin’ fo’ ’im back. Dat 
eben we git tel’gram sayin’ he snowbound, an’ don’t 
know w’en he git back. Huh mighty dis’pinted. Guess, 
doh, dah wuz uh redbud ’roun’ somewha, fo’ we sutinly 
wuz ’sprised w’en de Chris’mus angel, ur Santa Claus, 
fotch us de sweetes’ lil mite o’ uh baby, ’ bout free o’clock 
Chris’mus mawnin’. Dat baby wuz yo’, honey. While 
de stahs wuz still shinin’, I heah somepin’ runnin’ fru 
de snow. I go tuh de doah, I see yo’ papa jump outen 
uh kerrege an’ run up de walk, shakin’ de snow offen 
hes coat, an’ right on into de room callin’, 

“ ‘Chris’mus gif, Virgini!’ an’ he run right in to yo’ 
cradle in de fahlight. ‘ Oh ! Mammy, is hit so ? Did Santa 
Claus bring me this precious mite o’ humanity? I do 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


D 


not deserve such gre’t blessin’s. ’ Den he kneel by Missus ’ 
baid, an’ kiss huh an’ say in he low sweet voice, 

“ ‘Luv, muh own luv. See, little mother, what I have 
for yo’,’ an’ put ’roun’ huh ahm uh bracelet wid dia¬ 
monds set. 

“Dey name yo’ Mahg’ret Evangeline Lee fo’ yo’ two 
gran'mas, doh ole Missus, dat raise yo’ papa, done gone 
on tuh heben seberal months fo’ yo’ bawn. Evahbody 
would come an’ wan’ tuh see Marse Robert’s baby. 
W’en yo’ five yeahs ole, Miss Virgini go on uh visit tuh 
huh ma’s in Missouri, an’ tek yo’ an’ me. Huh didn’ 
wanna go widout ’im, but he dis so busy he can’t, 
’ceptin’ he come an’ spen’ de las’ month wid us, an’ 
bring us home. W’en he say goodbye, he take huh in 
hes a’ms, an’ kiss huh two, free times, an' say, 

“ ‘Sweetheart, write tuh me often.’ 

“Den he toss yo’ high ovah hes haid, an’ kiss yo’, 
an’ cut uh mite o’ cuhl f’om yo’ hyah, an’ say how he 
gwine do widout he lil girl so long. Den he shake han’s 
wid me, an' say, 

“‘Mammy, take good keah o’ my wife an’ dottah.’ 

“De las’ we see ’im he wabe he han’kahchef ez de 
train pulled out. 

“We sutinly did visit some quality sho in Columbia, 
Missouri. Doh none o’ dem outshines yo’ mama an’ yo’, 
honey, nuh yo’ ole black mammy eitha. We git lettah 
f’om Marse Robert, sayin’ he lil sick. Git uh nuddah 
say he plum po’ly. We start home, an’ git tel’gram at 
Richmond, Kentucky, dat say he daid. Ah! dat sutinly 
wuz uh sad time, honey. W’en we git home an’ drive 
in at de big gate, we see de ’ouse, an’ bahns, an’ fences 
all painted new. Seats an swings undah de trees fo’ yo . 
Isom say yo’ papa bin wvi’kin’ mighty hahd, an’ all 


6 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


de niggahs, tuh git done fo’ nh ’sprise fo’ yo’ mama. 
But w’en we go in de ’ouse, no Marse Robert dah wid 
lie beau’ful smile. 

“De neighbahs done baried dm yondah by Marse 
Morris an’ muh lady; ’caze de fevah so ketchin’ dey 
feerd tuh keep ’im up. Dat’s why he didn’ write how 
bad he wuz; he didn’ wan’ yo’ to take de fevah. Huh 
nebbah will git ovah hit, honey. De frien’s all des ez 
good ez dey can be, but dey not Marse Robert. Yo’ kep’ 
sayin ’, 

“ ‘ Whah my papa?’ 

“W’en we go in hes room, dah wuz evahting jes’ ez 
he lef’ hit. Yo’ lil baid wid de covahs des lak he tuck 

i 

yo’ out de mawnin’ we lef’. On de lil table by huh 
pietah an’ yorn Miss Virgini foun’ uh lettah fo’ huh he 
writ dis fo’ he died. In hit he say he sorry dat w’en yo’ 
big girl an’ evah marries de name o’ Lee goes out. But 
fo’ us all tuh meet ’im whah lub nebbah dies, an’ becomes 
God hisself, fo’ He is lub. Dah, honey, de tyrus jes’ will 
pester me, too. Can’t tell yo’ mo’ tonight,” and Mammy 
wiped away the intruders with the corner of her apron 
while Evangeline held a little lace kerchief to her eyes 
as she said, 

‘‘But you will tell me more another night, won’t 
you, Mammy?” 

“Yas, honey, let me rock you to sleep now,” and 
Mammy sang, 

“ ‘Gone are de days w’en muh heaht wuz young an’ gay, 
Gone are muh fren’s f ’om de cotton-fiel’s uh-way. ’ ’ ’ 


CHAPTER II 


“They are never alone that are accompanied 
with noble thoughts.” 

’Mid the green fields of old Virginia stood Leeland, 
the home of the heroine of our story, situated on a large, 
gradually sloping hill that gave a splendid view of the 
valley beyond. Back of it, one mile, and making a 
beautiful background, stretched one of the prettiest 
mountain ranges of Virginia. The mansion was built of 
brick, with a large Corinthian-columned porch front and 
back, with six great stone steps running the full length 
of them. The inside was like most of the mansions of 
that time—a large reception hall, open fire-place, and a 
fine stairway that went half way up and then divided 
right and left. The rooms were large and handsomely 
furnished with the furniture of “Ole Mastah’s” day. 

An immense lawn extended far down, in front, and 
was surrounded by a stone wall over which honeysuckles 
climbed. At the center of the southern portion there was 
a great gate with massive stone posts resembling the 
columns of the porch. Riding in one entered upon a 
circular driveway, on up by the steps of the porch and 
back again. The driveway was outlined on each side by 
spreading spruce pines—the hiding place of the cardinal. 
Here and there over the lawn were lindens, maples, 
hollies, and poplars. And down near the gate in the cool, 
de^p shade cast by the grandest of old beech trees was a 
crystal lake, Lucerne. Just over the wall from the lake, 
and extending the full length of the lawn, was the 
orchard, with its abundance of apples, pears, peaches, 


8 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


plums, and cherries. On the other side of the lawn the 
meadows began. Beyond the wall, in the rear, were the 
slave quarters in olden days, with their whitewashed 
cabins. 

The Lees were kind and good to their slaves and 
never sold any. They, in return, loved and were loyal 
to their masters. When freedom was announced, “Ole 
Mastah ’ ’ never stirred from the house, but let them 
decide for themselves and go if they wished. The most 
trusty and faithful ones remained. To each family of 
these he deeded several acres of land all joining, and 
furnished them material with which to build houses. 
To their little settlement he gave the name “Liberty.” 
They also worked on his plantation, receiving wages as 
the white man, only there were enough of them left to 
run the whole plantation “widout any po’ white trash 
’bout,” as they expressed it. 

Therefore, years and years afterward when many 
parts of Virginia had no darkies at all, yet in this 
secluded spot the old life at Leeland was not much 
changed, and a visitor in 1900 would have had the 
impression that he was a guest in the years before the 
war. Mammy never thought of leaving the “big ’ouse,” 
because she was a very important factor of Leeland, and 
presided with great dignity. Her height was the 
average, yet she was rather stout; her complexion brown, 
nearly tan; her benign old face was good to look upon, 
full of compassion and tenderness. She wore a lace 
head-rag and neat, clean dresses with a kerchief around 
her neck as Martha Washington had worn. She had 
always been the proud carrier of the key-basket and 
general boss of the household and nursery, and, in latter 
years, had at her command a whole retinue of sub- 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


9 


helpers from Liberty for the dairy, the laundry, house¬ 
cleaning, the canning season, and when company was 
at Leeland. 

The next in importance was Uncle Isom, her husband, 
who was general overseer of the orchard, garden, and 
lawn—in fact the whole plantation since Marse Robert’s 
death, and he had many assistants from Liberty, who 
rented the farm on shares. He and Mammy had rooms 
over the kitchen wing of the “big ’ouse.” 

Mrs. Virginia Lee was a perfect lady of medium size 
with blue eyes and long dark hair. Her chief attraction 
was her gracious, sincere manner that ever pleased those 
with whom she came in contact. She could entertain in 
her home, or at her table, any great person, or the 
humblest, with the utmost ease and grace and Southern 
hospitality. Deep in her heart she was ever lonely for 
one who had always filled her life with love and devo¬ 
tion ; who had always taken such tender care of her. 

And the seven-year-old heroine, Margaret Evangeline 
Lee, was a slender, modest little person with expressive 
indigo-blue-grey eyes, long lashes, dark brown curls, and 
a beautiful complexion. She seemed to live in a little 
world of her own—happiest when sitting on the steps 
of the old colonial porch alone, lost in wonderland, enjoy¬ 
ing daydreams of her own lovely fancies; or cuddled up 
in an old beech tree by the lake, feeding the swans and 
making believe they were ships to faraway countries 
bringing back fairies, princes, and precious treasures; 
or roaming the meadows with Mammy, gathering flowers 
and listening to the birds, bees, and other living things. 

In the home-life of Leeland harsh and unkind words 
she never heard spoken. Her father and mother were 
always loving and well-bred, and Mammy was tender¬ 
hearted and kind, so her innocent little soul was full of 
lovely thoughts and sympathy for others, 


CHAPTER III 




“Oh! what would the world be to us if the 
children were no more?” 

“Run heah, honey, an’ see who’s come!” called 
Mammy. 

Evangeline hastened down the great stairway to the 
porch and saw a fashionably dressed lady step from a 
carriage, and a pleasant-looking gentleman. Her mother 
was greeting each with a kiss while Mammy and uncle 
Isom were getting out wraps and bundles. All at once 
from a recess of the carriage, out jumped the nicest little 
boy dressed in a Lord Fauntleroy suit of blue-black 
velvet, with a cap set upon a mass of golden curls. 
Evangeline drew near a pillar as they came up. 

“Here, darling, speak to brother Edward, your 
papa’s chum and roommate in his school days, and your 
aunt Celeste,” said her mother, and she obeyed. 

“An’ dis is lil Maudrey, yo’ fust cousin, dis twelve 
days oldah dan yo’—Maudrey Legend,” said Mammy. 

But the cousins only eyed each other shyly. Presently 
the little boy held out a box of chocolates. 

“Will you not have some candy, little cousin?” said 
he sweetly. 

1 1 Thank you, ’ ’ she said timidly. 

“You are my cousin Evangeline, Mama said, but I 
bleb I’ll just say cousin, as it is all so long. Papa and 
mama are going to let me stay all winter and go to school 
with you right in this house. I brought my dolls and 
picture-books and my soldiers. Where are your dolls?” 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


11 


Evangeline led the way until they came to a play¬ 
house that would delight any child’s heart,—a little 
kitchen and dining-room complete in their furnishings; 
a sitting-room with suitable furniture; a bedroom full of 
doll-beds and dolls of all descriptions; curtains to little 
windows; a tiny piano and too many toys to mention. 
The cousins got better acquainted when they overhauled 
the playhouse to make room for Maudrey’s playthings. 

“Who made all this for you?” he asked. 

“My papa, while I was visiting grandma.” 

“Where is he?” 

“Gone to one of God’s mansions in heaven.” 

“I’m sorry,” kindly, and he offered her the candy 
again. “I’ll share my papa with you. You may sit on 
his other knee when he tells us stories ’bout bears.” 

Mammy came just then to take them to see the deer 
in the woodland. 

Next day the door of the apple-house was thrown 
wide, and the sunshine peeped into the bins and boxes 
inside. Amid the topmost branches of a number of 
trees in the orchard sat little darky boys, showing the 
whites of their eyes as they rolled them about to see the 
first sign from uncle Isom to shake down the shower of 
red apples; while little darky girls with baskets, or 
aprons, stood ready to gather them up. 

“Den ef yo’ sposdulates so tuh wuk, why don’ yo’ 
wuk an’ not kick up yo’ heels lak all yo’ hab tuh do is 
tuh skeer de grasshoppahs outen de grass,” complained 
uncle Isom. “Don’ yo’ know no bettah dan tuh poah 
dem Virgini Beauties wid de rusties? An’ yo’ knows 
pine blank de Ben Davis ain’ pet whah de late keepahs 
am piled. Shuffle yo’sebs up in dem peah trees, an’ lay 
dem saft like in de baskets. Don’ yo’ let me lay muh 


12 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


eyes on uh one o’ yo’ stuffin’ dem. Deys not fo’ yo’ tuh 
pet yo’ teef into.” 

Mrs. Lee and Mrs. Legend brought their fancy-work 
to the shade of the orchard, while Mammy bossed the 
sorting of the apples as they kept pouring in. 

“Mammy, who is the mulatto girl in the clean calico 
frock with sad-looking eyes like a fawn’s?” asked aunt 
Celeste. 

“Why, un o’ de ’ouse-maids wen’ Norf w’en de wah 
wuz obali. Dat’s huh chile. Huh pa wuz uh white man 
in de Norf. Huh ma died w’en huh lil, an 1 huh aunt 
heah at Libahty raise huh. Huh name’s Christine, an’ 
huh wo’ships Evangeline, kaze huh teachin’ huh tuh 
read an’ write.” 

“Gre’t day in de mawnin’, niggahs, whut yo’ 
fumblin ’ ’roun ’ dab doin ’ ? Git a move on yo ’sebs. None 
o’ yo’ export in any kind o’ wuk,” exclaimed uncle Isom. 

“Dese days ain’ nuffin lak de days fo’ de wah; nur 
Marse Robert’s day nuthah. He take de lazy niggahs in 
he lil office-room an’ show um uh purty pictah o’ uh lil 
rabbit settin’ up jes’ ez nice hoi’in’ he lil paws. Undali 
hit hit read, ‘Dis lil rabbit sits up an sits,’ an’ ole Jack 
Frost is uh-ketchin’ ’im by de neck. Den he show um 
nuthah pictah o’ uh lil rabbit dat stretchin’ he legs 
neahly often ’im. Undah hit hit read, ‘Dis lil brer rabbit 
gits up an’ gits* An’ he sho am uh-gittin’—runnin’ lak 
fohty, makin’ fo’ uh hole dat wuz plum full o’ good 
rabbit eatin’. An’ min’ yo’, ole Jack Frost wuz uh- 
runnin’ de uddah way jes’ halid ez he can go. 

“‘Now which yo’ druthah be?’ he say tuh dem. 
‘Wuk an’ hab sumfin, ur set ’bout an’ starve an’ freeze 
tuh de’f?’ Dat las' summali he take me up on dat high 
hill yondah tuh salt one hun’ud cattle, sleek ez ribbins, 
an’ he say, 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


13 


“‘Isom, dey be mo’ dem nex’ yeah; dese blue-grass 
fiel’s will roam wid dem lak cattle on uh t’ousand hills.’ 
Yas, sail, ef he hev libed he bin de riches’ man in all 
Virgini, an’ dis ez good ez he wuz rich. Lo’dy, Lo’dy! 
wisht de good Lo'd ud lent ’im tuh us dis lil longah.” 

Two, at least, of uncle Isom’s audience were listening 
intently—Evangeline and Maudrey—and when there 
was a lull in the narrative, it was revived by their ques¬ 
tions, as they sat in the grass outlining circles, stars, and 
crosses with bright red apples; for while uncle Isom 
stamped his foot at the little pickaninnies about bruising 
the apples, he would let these two do what they pleased 
with them because they were careful. When the story 
had ended and they were tired, a picnic dinner was 
spread under the trees, and the dolls and soldiers were 
invited. After the small table was arranged, they spied 
a red-bird flitting about in the trees; their feast was 
forgotten. 

“Maudrey, I love red-birds, don’t you? Like Red 
Ridinghood they always wear red cloaks and high-up 
hoods. That one has a nest in the pines and will eat the 
crumbs that I put on the roots of the tree for it.” 

A happy year it was for the two children. Their 
governess was a pleasant lady of refinement and culture. 
When the snow came, they played “The Monks in the 
Alps,” climbing the great hill with Snowbound, Evange¬ 
line’s big white greyhound, who would bring in the 
soldiers thrown ahead in the snow. They imitated most 
every story that was read to them. 

Sometimes Maudrey was the dolls’ doctor, wearing a 
long overcoat that swept the floor, and bearing with 


14 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


dignity a pair of old saddlebags containing bread pills, 
dour powders, and bottles of berry juice. Evangeline 
was trained nurse; and Mammy, the surgeon, performed 
some wonderful operations without the use of an 
anesthetic. The hospital ward was full of doll-beds and 
patients, with a tiny vase of flowers beside each bed. 

At Christmas time— 

‘ ‘ Out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, 
Everyone sprang to the windows to see what was 
the matter.” 

There was a real Santa in a real sleigh coming right 
up to the door; and even marched in and gave the 
presents from their tree. Then they heard him exclaim 
as he drove out of sight, 

“Merry Christmas to all, 

And to all a—goodnight.” 

From seven to eleven years Maudrey attended school 
at Leeland each winter; then bidding Evangeline good¬ 
bye he went home to attend, the following year, a private 
school for small boys. 

When twelve years old, Evangeline one day sat think¬ 
ing. Finally she said, 

“Mammy, what makes so many Christians? When 
we go to different churches in town on Sabbath days, 
some are Methodist Christians, some Baptist Christians 
and some Presbyterian Christians.” 

“I can't tells yo\ honey, ’peahs dey needs diff’rent 
kinds.” 

Not satisfied she asked her mother, 

“How can I be all the Christians? Every one of 
them wants me to be their kind.” 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


15 


Her mother smiled, drew her to her side, and said, 
“I am glad my little daughter wants to do right, 
and I believe I know what kind of a Christian she wants 
to be—one with a pure heart, and one who receives every 
true Christian as a member of the one great body of 
Christ united in love and service. Study your Bible 
through, and it will tell you plainly. It should be your 
rule and guide and not what people say.” 

The next Easter morning found Evangeline’s happy 
heart full of faith, hope, and love. Lake Lucerne had 
been the scene of a pretty baptism. 

Mammy was delighted, “De good Lo’d don’t mek 
many lak dis chile, He don’t. ’Cos de watah don’t wash 
de sins ’way. De Sabior was crucified and baried fo’ 
our sins, but He ’rose dat Eastah mawnin’. So yo’ wuz 
baried f’om sight undah de watah, typifyin’ He de’f, 
an’ barin’ o’ yo’ sins, tuh ’rise tuh walk uh new life. 
Yo’ sho did look lak uh bride, honey, in dat white dress— 
de Christ’s bride—an’ lubs Him nuf tuh dis weah He’s 
name—Christian—an’ nobody else’s hitched on.” 


CHAPTER IV 


“To know some people is a standing invitation to be good.” 

‘ ‘ Baste de tu ’key fo ’ ole Mammy, please mum, honey. 
I’ze ’feerd tuh stop icin’ dis cake, ’feerd hit’ll git hahd. 
Hit’s de mahble-cake, de favoright o’ Miss Virgini,—huh 
bufday cake,” said Mammy with a chuckle. “While 
huh’s gone visitin’, we git dis bufday suppah ready. 
I wan’ hit all on de table ’fo’ huh gits heah. Won’ hit 
’sprise huh doll? Yo’ say hit’s haf attah free?” 

“Yes. Must I wear this white muslin dress or the 
pink one?” said Evangeline. 

“Yo’ looks de sweetes’ in de white un; weah hit, 
an ’ plat yo ’ hyah in two long plats down yo ’ back, honey, 
an’ yo’s all ready. Dem ferns an’ flowahs do set de table 
off, I tells yo’. De chicken salad look snipshous on dem 
lettis leabs. De fruit-stan’ is ’licious lookin’; foah kin’ 
o’ parsarbs an’ de maple-syrup all am on; de ice-cream’s 
froze; muh beat biscuit an ’—lawsy muhcy! I neahly 

I 

fohgit de cherry pie, w’en Miss Virgini sets sich uh heap 
o’ store by de fust cherry pie! Isom’s drivin’ huh, so I 
guess we’ll has tuh run down an’ git um, honey.” 

Mammy mounted upon a stepladder quickly culled 
the crimson fruit, while Evangeline stood below gather¬ 
ing from the limbs she could reach. 

’Twas the first day of May and all Nature wore new 
dresses that shone in the sunshine. Evangeline was 
sweet sixteen. A cardinal strutted up the limb toward 
her as if to say, “What liberties have you here?” 

“Do up to the topmost branches, Mr. Bird, where I 
cannot reach.” 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


17 


But he ate where he pleased and flew away without 
even mentioning a financial settlement. 

“Was he not handsome among these 4 little red 
apples,’ as a Sunday-school baby called them the other 
day? Wonder what my surprise is going to be?” 

The slam of the big gate caused both to start. 

“Who dat cornin’ undah de pines? ’Pon muh soul! 
Is dat Miss Virgini? I can hahdly see fo’ de trees.” 

“No, it’s a nice-looking young man on horseback 
riding in.” 

“I dis bet hit’s Mr. Maudrey.” 

“But he will not be through at Washington and Lee 
until the middle of June.” 

Snowbound betrayed where they were, and the young 
man reined his horse near them. 

“Pardon me,” said he, tipping his hat. “Is this not 
the home of Mrs. Robert Lee?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Thank you,” and he rode slowly toward the house. 

Mammy and Evangeline hastened up the back way; 
and the latter just did get to the door in time to receive 
him as he came up the stone steps, her sunbonnet still 
hanging to her neck, and her hair blown into curls about 
her face. 

“Mother is not at home just now, but will be very 
soon.” 

“Then you are Miss Lee,” said he gallantly. “Glad 
to meet you. I am Leolaine Leigh from Kentucky 
University, to whom, if I’m not mistaken, you wrote not 
long ago in regard to entering Hamilton College next 
year. ’ ’ 

“Y-e-s, yes, I did write a letter to a Mr. Leigh in 


18 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


Lexington. But—but I thought he was an—an old 
gentleman, and a teacher at Hamilton.” 

“Of his age you may now judge, Miss Lee, and I 
have never taught,” said he politely, though enjoying 
her little confusion very much. 

“Such eyes, such eyes!” thought Evangeline. Large, 
clear, soft and brown; his lashes swept his cheeks when 
he looked down, and gave to them a depth indescribable 
when raised. Southern chivalry to ladies revealed itself 
in his dignity of bearing, with an ease that showed it was 
inborn and not acquired. Still most people would not 
have called him handsome, except his eyes; yet there was 
in his face such expressive nobility of soul that Evange¬ 
line thought him the handsomest young man she had 
ever seen. 

“I am on my way to my home in Eastern Virginia,” 
continued he, “and the president of Hamilton asked me 
to distribute these catalogues to young ladies I might 
know. As you wrote, I stopped to answer in person and 
give you one. My father was a minister and a friend of 
your father and mother. I have often heard him speak 
of his pleasant visits at Leeland.” 

The click of the great gate announced Mrs. Lee, and 
in silence they watched the carriage roll ’round the drive. 

“This is a lovely place,” said he. 

Mrs. Lee greeted him pleasantly. 

“My horse is tired; may I not spend the night?” 

“Certainly. Come into the library or parlor, where 
you will find it more comfortable.” 

Evangeline slipped away to see about Mammy and 
the pie. 

Leon Leigh thought he had never seen a prettier tea 
served anywhere—the handsome old blue china on snow 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


19 


white linen; in an old colonial dining-liall with a typical 
Southern hostess. But best of all the frank, pure, sweet 
young girl opposite him. 

During the meal he noted—an abundance of long, 
wavy, soft hair, sometimes black, sometimes burnished 
brown as the light came and went over it; long black 
lashes that curtained eyes, at night, like the violet’s dark 
blue; complexion clear with a tinge of rose in each cheek; 
Cupid’s bow lips red as the cherries she ate; a perfect 
nose; rather a sober-sweet expression to the face; but 
when amused, her eyes danced and sparkled. What 
sweet reserve! Distinctly a little Southern lady. Then 
he smiled slightly to himself when he thought of her 
writing to him; had she known, he was only one year 
older than she, even though it teas on a school topic. And 
he thought how pretty her blushes made her when he 
had first spoken of it on the veranda. 

“I hope you will decide to attend Hamilton in the 
coming year, Miss Lee. I will do all in my power to 
make it pleasant for you.” 

“Thank you. I had so planned, but my governess 
now teaches at Virginia College, and I have promised to 
go there because she will make it so pleasant for me.” 

“I came too late. Too late for a Kentucky college to 
gain a Virginia student; yet, as 'tis my native State, 
I can not feel as sorry as I would have, had it been 
otherwise. ’ ’ 

When the pleasant evening was over, and good- 
nights had been said, Evangeline slipped away to 
slumberland, thinking of those beautiful brown eyes and 
wondering why he did not study for the ministry. While 
in the guest room the occupant of the white-curtained bed 
went to sleep with a happy heart. 


20 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


Next morning Leon was awakened by pleasant voices 
outside. ’Tw r as Evangeline, fresh as a rosebud, and 
Mammy over in the strawberry bed gathering berries for 
breakfast. Her heart would have beaten faster even had 
she known that behind the closed blinds those wonderful 
eyes were looking down on the pretty sight. 

After the morning meal Leon was so contented and 
happy in conversation with Mrs. Lee, while he watched 
Miss Lee—when unnoticed—that the moments glided by 
unheeded until the grandfather’s clock on the stair 
chimed the hour for departing; and after lingering over 
the goodbyes, he rode away out under the pines, leaving 
behind a maiden’s heart touched by the first sweet chords 
of love. 


CHAPTER V 


“In days of old 
When knights were bold.” 

In the kitchen Mammy, very important, was deliver¬ 
ing a lecture to an audience of one, Christine, on the race 
question. 

‘‘It’s a pity I am not white, or black,—one,” the 
latter had said. “If black, perhaps I would not long so 
to be a lady. As it is, I am of a race all alone—a 
mulatto—with the ambitions of the whites and the 
restrictions of the negro. How nice it is for Miss 
Evangeline to go to a girl’s boarding school this winter. 
The colored people have none; at least I do not know it 
if they have. The teacher at Liberty has taught me all 
he knows. I would not go to a Northern college for 
whites and blacks, all those white girls looking at me 
like I was a monkey, afraid to touch me, and tolerating 
my presence only because they consider that they are 
showing such a spirit of sacrifice and sweet charity to 
have me among them. I do not want their pity and 
scorn. I know what I am talking about, for when I went 
as maid with that nice lady friend of Miss Virginia’s, 
who gave short cooking-class lessons at the colleges, I saw 
it all. They do not like me for my own sake like the 
Southern ladies.” 

“Nemmine now, dis wait minit. Lemme tell yo’ 
sumfin’. Miss Evangeline’s gwine git yo’ place in town, 
as nuss fo’ uh nice white lady an’ yo’ can go tuh good 
cullud school; an’ ef yo’ be right smart an’ larn heap, 


22 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


huh gwina see dat yo ’ gits tuh go tuh uh big college sum 
day whah hit’s only fo’ de black peoples.” 

“Oh! I can never thank her enough. I’m going to 
help nice neighbor folks house-clean and wash and iron, 
and pick berries, so I can buy nice clothes and books when 
I get to go to that college. Then, too, I’m going to save 
all I can make above that, from this time on, to help pay 
my way in college, and maybe 1 can work some in school 
to pay the rest.” 

“Nen yo’ lissun tuh me,” said Mammy. “Yo’ quit 
dis heah greebin’ ’bout bein’ black. ’Tain’t yo' fault, 
ur yo’ would bin white, I knows. Dah's jes’ one way yo’ 
wills be white un o’ dese days, dat is in hebben. Bettah 
spen’ yo’ time on dis uth tryin’ tuh do all de good yo’ 
ken tuh git dah. En ef yo’ wan’s sum cumfot heah in 
dis warld, membah dat w’en yo' is walkin’ de streets o’ 
de Golden City, white ez snow, dat yo’ ken see womens 
dat wuz white on dis uth bu'nt black ez uh crow in de 
place whah de rich man go, and mens, too. Speakin’ o’ 
de men, yo’ watch dem lak yo’ would uh rattlesnake. Yo’ 
got tuh fight ’ginst dat, kaze dat’s whah yo’ Mammy 
failed. Watchin’ come ’fo’ prayin’ in de Bible. Ole 
Mastah use tuh say dat de true wuth o’ uh puhson, what 
ebbah dey cullah, carry dem fru. De good Christ come 
heah tuh sarb, not to be sarbed. Leastwise, He done mos’ 
de sarbin’. He wuz humble an' meek”—Mammy’s 
sermon was cut short by Uncle Isom’s calling for her to 
come get the morning’s mail. 

There was a dainty letter addressed to Evangeline 
from Lexington, Kentucky. Her heart throbbed a little 
as she opened it and read the pretty hand— 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


23 


“Dear Miss Lee: 

“Pardon me if this surprise is unpleasant to you. I 
write to ask if you would care to correspond with me 
since you know that I am not an old gentleman. Just 
to know each other better, for I will never forget the 
pleasant night spent at your home; but if it will be dis¬ 
agreeable to you, just consign this missive to the cold, 
calm waters of Lethe. My regards to your mother. 


“Very truly, 

“Your friend, 

“Leolaine Leigh.” 


No. 27 


K. U. 


’Twas the first letter of the kind she had ever received, 
and the first thoughts of a sweetheart. Can pen or brush 
describe this young girl’s heart, who had lived, like 
Longfellow’s maiden, a lovely life amid the beauties of 
nature and her cultured, stately home with only Mother 
and Mammy. She was indeed 


“Standing with reluctant feet 
Where the brook and river meet.” 


Sacred and pure were her thoughts of love and a 
home, gleaned from the memory of a father she wor¬ 
shiped and Mammy’s stories of the great soldier-like lives 
of her grandparents; but mostly from the best books she 
adored—stories of handsome, gallant knights of “King 
Arthur’s Round Table,” Scott’s “Ivanhoe,” Tenny¬ 
son’s “Idyls of the King,” etc. 

She had dreams? Yes, way off in the future some 
time, when she was through school, and she and her 
mother had traveled and seen great countries and places, 
then her ideal knight would come, so gallant to ladies, 
brave, chivalrous and true, and woo and win her; then 
what a happy, dainty, cozy little home they would have. 


24 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


She greatly admired the good old minister who bap¬ 
tized her; therefore, her young knight must be a minister. 
This, in a vague way, was the mystical path of her 
thoughts upon the question; in fact, she had never given 
it a real thought, no more than a nine-year-old girl would 
have. Her mother had taught her not to think marriage 
the chief end of a girl’s existence, but to be a true lady, 
helpful to the world, sincere, earnest, and refined. All 
environment and culture would have amounted to noth¬ 
ing had not purity and a longing for the beautiful been 
woven into the very bones of her body when she was born. 
She detested a flirt. Love was too sacred to barter away. 

All too soon, it appeared to her, Love had come and 
stirred sweet strains of music in her soul. 

“A handsome, gallant knight; but one thing thou 
laekest—thou art not a minister,” mused she. 

’Twas all too new, too unknown a realm to enter so 
young she felt, for she had a loving, tender heart, and 
she realized that if he was real nice to her, she could not 
help but love him; and if she loved at all, she would love 
all in all: and she not through college yet. Selecting her 
best stationery she timidly began to reply. Years after 
she would have given half her kingdom to have remem¬ 
bered what she wrote in answer to that letter and how 
she worded it. 

Some years after, when she began to accept the com¬ 
pany of young men, and learned the ways of other girls, 
she often blushed to think how frank she must have been. 
She did not want to hurt his feelings, she remembered, 
and in some way had tried to tell him she could not write 
then; not because she had any reason to dislike him, but 
because she was too young and not through school yet. 
She would accept him as her first correspondent and 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


25 


write the first letter when she began to accept company, 
she wrote him. 

An odd letter it must have been to Leigh, who was 
used to girls her age being considered grown, having 
company, flirting, and even marrying at sixteen and 
seventeen. But she was all unconscious of it. When she 
had gone away to college, she learned more and more the 
ways of the world, but the sincere life of her early days 
at Leeland, apart from the swim and whirl, with no father 
or brothers seemed ever to cause young men to not quite 
understand her, to think of her as being reserved and 
cold, though all liked her. If she could not love them, 
she would not encourage their attentions. She never did 
get used to the flirty ways of the world. In other words, 
she was by nature and training an “old-fashioned girl” 
with high motives and a sweet, home-making spirit. 
“The heart of her husband would safely trust in her.” 




CHAPTER VI 


“Nowhere on earth is woman’s smile so sweet as in Virginia.” 

Evangeline came home the second year from college, 
a graduate, worn out with hard study, and having a 
severe cold, it resulted in pneumonia. By the last of 
June she was convalescent, and the first days of July 
could walk around some, thanks to Mammy’s nursing of 
“pewmoni.” 

The Fourth was a nice day and Evangeline celebrated 
it by lying in the hammock under the pines reading. 
Near noon she fell asleep. A fly kept walking on her 
cheek. She brushed it away and turned her face deeper 
into the pillows, and was again lost in unconsciousness 
when someone took her hand and kissed it softly. 
Startled, she drew it away and gave a little cry of alarm 
as, half awake, she saw a young man kneeling by her 
side. Then a voice said gently, 

“Pardon me if I frightened you, but do you not 
know me, little cousin? I was just playing ‘The Prince 
and Sleeping Beauty’ as we used to of old.” 

Fully awake now, as she sat up on the side of the 
hammock, she saw before her a perfect blond, handsome 
as a picture, in a cadet suit of grey. 

“Is it really you, Maudrey?” 

“Really me, coz. To prove it, see here,” and he drew 
from his pockets some childish trinkets she had given 
him long ago. They both laughed. 

“Now won’t you greet me with a kiss as of old?” said 
he, sitting down beside her. 

“I think you have already had such a greeting with¬ 
out permission,” said she blushing. 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


27 


“I don’t have to ask permission of my own cousin, of 
my only sister. I settled that question years ago. Say, 
do you know, cousin, you are a perfect American beauty? 
Stand up and we will see which has the taller grown. 
Well, well, up above my shoulders! We are both eigh¬ 
teen, aren’t we?” said he, taking in with admiration her 
beautiful figure. “Do remove those hair-pins and let me 
see how much that brown mass has grown. My! Evange¬ 
line, it falls way below your knees. It is well enough 
aunt Virginia lives in this sweet, secluded spot, or you 
would make all the boys’ hearts go smash sure. You 
remind me of one of Charles Dana Gibson’s girls.” 

“Why, Maudrey, do you think me a flirt?” 

“No, no, coz, you are so innocent and sweet the boys 
could not help but love you. I know , for these fashion 
plates we have to talk to are a bore sure. 

“Do you know I will believe you do nothing but 
hatter, if you do not stop, and will be disappointed in 
you if ’tis true. Give an account of yourself. Did you 
drop from the skies by my side?” 

“No, I came by way of the big gate, saw aunt 
Virginia, and waited a whole five minutes for ‘Sleeping 
Beauty’ to awake.” And his eyes twinkled, for he loved 
to tease her. “Come, coz, les’ make way for the June- 
apple-tree. I’m just from Washington and Lee and as 
hungry as can be. You see I am a poet—but do you 
walk much? You have had the fever, haven t you, 
cousin? Here, take my arm and we will walk slow.’ 
To the orchard they went. “You rest awhile— 

“ ‘Under the shade of the old apple-tree 

sang he in rich baritone; “and I will gather some of the 
ripest reds. ’ ’ Then down by the lake they went. 


28 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


“Cousin, while I am here, I am going to make two 
little boats for you to put on the lake, paint them white, 
with a top to them to keep off sun and rain, and christen 
them some pretty names.” 

“That’s just what I have been wanting, Maudrey.” 

“Is our playhouse still standing?” 

“Oh, yes, and many of our playthings as you and I 
left them.” 

“I declare I feel like a perfect kid again. Have you 
that big doll that would talk, and was so pretty?” 

“Yes, I will.always keep her.” 

“I love dolls yet, though the boys laugh at me for 
keeping mine. We will read together this summer. I 
brought quite a number of new books. Won’t it be 
grand out under the trees in the deep blue-grass, with 
you sewing while I read aloud?” 

‘ ‘ It has been five or six years since I saw you. Why 
have you not come before when you wrote you would? 
I have looked for you every summer.” 

“Oh, mother is always asking me to go to some 
summer resort; but chains would not have kept me away 
this time. What’s that white through the trees?” 

“Our new church. We will go and see it.” 

“Did you and aunt Virginia have it built?” 

“Yes, in memory of father.” 

“I like that, Evangeline, better than a grand stone.” 

“I do too. It is full every Lord’s day, and a hundred 
on roll in Sunday school. Have you been baptized, 
Maudrey ? ’ ’ 

“Yes, in school, and belong to the Christian Church. 
Do jmu?” 

“Yes, because it joins all Christians in one great 
body of love and service, and every one likes that name, 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


29 


though I attend and help all churches when opportunity 
affords.” 

“What have you named this building?” said he, 
looking at the pillared porch. 

‘‘ Bethany. ’ ’ 

“I like the auditorium. The walls are so white and 
the baby-blue trimmings set it off.” 

“The gallery at the back is for the darkies of 
Liberty. ’ 7 

“Peanut-gallery, eh? Pardon me, cousin, I can’t 
be real solemn for any length of time.” 

“Come down here and see the Sunday school class 
rooms,” and she led the way. “This one is mine.” 

‘ ‘ My ! matting on the floor, white wood-work, dainty 
wall paper, white curtains to the windows, potted plants 
and ferns on the window-sills, a little library, and just 
lots of pictures of the Madonna and the Christ-child on 
the wall,” said he, missing nothing. “Children would 
become good in this room by absorption.” 

“Noblesse oblige , cousin,” said she eourtesying. 

“Now, Lady Bountiful, what else have we to see and 
hear?” 

“Nothing, only I have a sewing-class Saturday after¬ 
noons and read to the girls while they sew and 
embroider. ’ ’ 

“I’ll buy a thimble and be ready,” he said as he 
closed the door behind them. 

“Miss ’Vangeline, Mr. Maudrey, dinnah’s waitin’,” 
called Mammy. 

“Listen, it does not sound natural to have Mammy 
put a title to my name. It used to be, ‘ ’Vangeline, 
Maudrey, cum heah quick.’ Dear old soul, I have not 
seen her yet. Do you ever hear from our governess?” 


30 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


“Yes, often. Where will yon attend school this 
winter?” 

“At the University of Virginia. Where are you 
going ? ’ ’ 

“To Bethany, West Virginia.” 

“In two years we will be through school, and will 
have graduated about three times, will we not, cousin?” 

“Yes—yes, I suppose we will. Maudrey, do you 
know a Mr. Leigh in eastern Virginia?” 

“N-o, no, I have never met him. My! cousin, how 
you blush. He is not your sweetheart, is he, 
Evangeline ? ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Why no, Maudrey, I have no sweetheart. I met him 
two years ago and think he is nice and thought you 
might know him.” 

“No, but I know he is nice if you think so. Pardon 
me for walking so fast. I have made you cough. Do 
your lungs hurt?” 

“Yes, when I cough. Soon as I am able, uncle Isom 
will saddle mother’s horse and mine—Lassie Jean and 
Lady—and we will go riding every nice day when the sun 
is low. I want to grow real strong again,” and the 
cousins went in to see Mammy. 


CHAPTER VII 


“The only work of vital and lasting importance 
is the fashioning of human character.” 

A wave of handkerchiefs as the train pulled out 
and Evangeline was off for college again. ’Twas rather 
a tiresome trip, but one of the professors met her at the 
station a few miles away. ’Twas a bright night and 
before long she could see a large building outlined in the 
moonlight on an immense hill. Then the whole campus 
came into view, showing couple after couple of boys and 
girls, some seated on the grass, some walking about, and 
some leaning on the fence. 

“Open the gate, please,” said the professor, and three 
or four young men obeyed. As they drove in, she heard 
them say, “Ah! a new girl.” 

On nearing Phillips Hall, the abode of the girls, the 
sound of mandolin and guitar came from the porch. But 
the girls disappeared as if by magic as the surrey drove 
up. The matron met her. 

“Will you come into the parlor?” said she. 

“No, thank you. I had rather go to my room, for 
I’m tired,” replied Evangeline. 

After chatting a while the matron said, “If you want 
anything, I am just down the hall. Goodnight.” 

“Thank you. Goodnight.” 

She wrote a letter to her mother, took a bath, and 
retired. All at once the sweetest, softest music sounded 
just outside in the hallway. Looking through the key¬ 
hole she saw a group of girls seated in a half-circle on 
the floor around her door with mandolins and guitars. 


32 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


When they had finished, she opened the door slightly and 
poured out two dozen large apples. 

“Oh! thank you, thank you,” said they, hurrying 
around for the apples. 

Next morning two girls, Nan Westwood and Kath¬ 
erine Ralston, came to her room to take her to breakfast 
and over to chapel. The college was stately and com¬ 
manding, and its walls seemed to hold many a story. 
They entered the corridor. Oh! that corridor to every 
student of Bethany—twenty feet wide and extending the 
whole length of the building; closed on one side by the 
college wall; open on the other with columns like a porch, 
from which one looked out over the ballground and tennis 
courts, on over the rolling, grass-covered hills of West 
Virginia. The place was swarming with students. Now 
two girls, two boys, a boy and a girl, then a whole 
phalanx of boys and girls, talking, walking, and laughing, 
and all eyed the new girl, who would rather they did not. 

That night a reception was given at Phillips Hall 
for the boys and girls to meet the new girls. There were 
only two, Evangeline and her roommate, Grace Gooper. 
They met one hundred young men; each had a two 
minutes’ talk and asked nearly the same questions. 

“Your home is in Virginia, I believe, Miss Lee? How 
do you like Bethany ? I suppose you live on a plantation 

i 

amid cotton fields and orange groves?” 

When she answered that she had never seen a very 
large field of cotton and never an orange tree growing, 
they asked in a surprised tone, 

‘ ‘ Why, I thought you were from the South ? ’ ’ 

“I am, but we call Florida, Mississippi, Alabama, 
Texas—and those States—South. At least, that is where 
the orange blossoms grow.” 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


33 


Out of the number of boys Evangeline mentally noted 
about twenty as being very nice, the others did very well, 
and only one Virginia boy and one Kentucky boy were 
there. 

Next morning she unpacked her trunk, took out her 
pictures, and began to arrange her room. Soon it was 
full of girls making informal calls, some seated on the 
trunk, the bed, in the windows, on the floor, and one on 
the radiator, all enjoying the goodies their hostess passed 
around, which is ever near a student’s heart. 

“Where—did—you—buy—such—lovely cakes?” said 
one, her mouth so full there was danger of being choked. 

“Mammy made them.” 

“Oh! girls, we will all visit her in the summer. Do 
tell us about black Mammy. ’Tis so romantic; but are 
you not afraid of her?” 

: ‘ Afraid of Mammy ? Why no! ” 

“I knew you were a Southerner by your brogue,” 
said the other in a superior, patronizing way. 

Evangeline felt like saying, “I knew you were a 
Northerner from the cold, unladylike, unrefined way you 
have and by your ‘caukulating’ to do so and so; your 
‘Yes, indeed’ and your dame shoulder.’ But she 
remembered she was her guest and only said, 

“Yes, I’m an eastern Virginian and we are rather 
proud of our brogue.” 

“You all are , are you?” said the other sarcastically, 
nudging a girl by her side. “I am a Yankee and we are 
proud of our learning.” 

Evangeline answered nothing as she showed Nan a 
picture of her home, but she felt like saying, “It takes 
learning and refinement too to make a lady,” and made 
up her mind if that girl was in any of her classes she 


34 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


should not get ahead of her, and she never did. ’Twas 
a. new experience to Evangeline to be in a class-room with 
forty or fifty boys and just four girls. Such was the 
Bible-class, and in psychology she was the only girl. At 
dinner three days after she came, one girl said to another, 

“With whom were you on ‘biz’ last Sunday?” 

“Mr. Moninger.” 

“Have you a ‘biz’ for next Saturday evening?” 

“Yes, indeed.” 

“Are you going on ‘biz,’ Miss Lee, while you are at 
Bethany?” 

“I’m sure I do not know. Do you ride or walk?’’ 

“Either and neither,” replied the girl laughing, “1 
must go, for my ‘biz’ is waiting.” 

Sunday morning Evangeline received a pretty note 
which read, 

‘ ‘ Dear Miss Lee: 

“Will you allow me the pleasure of being your ‘biz’ 
to church this morning? 

“Very truly, 

“ Willet.” 


Knocking on Nan’s door she said, 

“Do tell me what ‘biz’ means.” 

‘ ‘ Oh ! don’t you know ? ’ ’ 

“I must confess that I do not. Sometimes I think 
I do, but it is used in so many ways I am at sea.” 

“Well, before girls were admitted to Bethany, young 
ministerial students went out in the country to preach, 
as they do now. One young man met a very sweet girl 
who became his sweetheart. He would go calling on her, 
telling the boys he went on business. Contracted to ‘biz’ 


Evangeline op Ole Virginia 


35 


it has been ever since at Bethany a word in any way 
connected with beau. Is that a ‘biz’ note?” 

“I suppose you would call it so here.” 

“Who from?” 

“Mr. Willet.” 

‘ ‘ Which one ? ’ ’ 

“The dreamy-eyed one.” 

“He’s all right. You ought to feel complimented, for 
he has never gone with any of the girls here, except one 
other. And the girls think he is so handsome and nice.” 

She answered the note in the affirmative, but never 
used ‘ biz, ’ as it was too new to her. 

As they came from Society Friday night, all at once 
fifty voices, on the corridor, began the college yell, 


“Hi! Yi! Yi! 

Rah! Rah ! Rah! 

Yah ! Whoo! Bethany! 

Cha hee! Cha hee! 

Cha! ha! ha! ha! 

Bethany! Bethany! 

Rah! Rah! Rah! ’ ’ 

Some girl answered, 

“Tick tack! 

Tick tack! 

Tick tack taw! 

Phillip’s Hall! Phillip’s Hall! 

Rah! Rah! Rah!” 

Then the whole corridor took up the college song, 
except Evangeline. 


36 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


“My father sent me to old Bethany, 

Resolved that I should be a man, 

And so I settled down in that quiet little town 
On the banks of the old Buffalo. 

‘ ‘ On the banks of the Old Buffalo, my boys, 

Where old Bethany evermore shall stand, 

For has she not stood since the time of the flood 
On the banks of the Old Buffalo.” 

## ###### 

Evangeline liked Nan best of the girls. The latter 
had been to school there three years. So had Mr. Tolar, 
her friend from New York. As the two girls entered the 
corridor Monday morning, Tolar tipped his hat, saying, 

“May I have the pleasure of walking with you two?” 

“Certainly.” 

“I heard you had a smoke-out last night.” 

“Yes.” 

“In honor of Miss Lee, I suppose, to get her fully 
initiated. ’ ’ 

“Yes,”, said Nan, “but being warned she had even 
the key-hole stopped.” 

“Good, Miss Lee. The next, no doubt, will be a* 
serenade.” 

“Yes,” laughed Nan. 

“Oh! I enjoy serenades,” said Evangeline, thinking 
of the one the night she came. 

“Do you? Then promise me you will express your 
appreciation to me of the coming one on the morning 
after,” said Tolar, hiding a twinkle in his eyes. 

“I promise, and is it the custom to throw flowers?” 

“Ask Miss Westwood.” 

“I think not,” said Nan. 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


37 


“Do you belong to the serenading club, Mr. Tolar?” 

“No, Miss Lee, I have never had that honor, not 
being musical.” Just then the bell rang and they 
went in. 

A week or two later Evangeline’s roommate was sick 
and was in the hospital wing; and the former had sat 
up late to study a hard lesson. Her head had scarcely 
touched the pillow before she was asleep, though she 
hardly had done so until an awful noise awoke her, as if 
some one was sawing into the glass in the windows and 
cutting tin with a knife, with other horrible sounds. She 
could stand it no longer; shaking with fear she stole 
into Nan’s room and crawled into bed with her, 
whispering, 

“Is it burglars? What shall we do?” holding Nan 
close. She could feel Nan shaking too. “Why don’t 
some of the boys from the Heights come and shoot 
them ?” in despair. 

“Oh \ do let—me—hear—you—tell—my—'biz—how— 
you—enjoyed—the—serenade! ’Tis a horse-fiddle,” 
laughed Nan. 

“A what?” light beginning to dawn upon her. 

“A horse-fiddle. The boys put old tin cans, and 
anything that will make an awful noise, in a box and 
slip it in the hallway, after dark, with long waxed strings 
fastened to them to go under the door. They get way 
down the hillside and pull them.” 

“Is your biz in it?” 

“No, don’t you remember he told you he was not 
musical, and had not the honor of belonging to the club. * ’ 

“No wonder. Please do not tell him. I never can.” 

She would not go on the corridor next morning, but 
when the bell rang, went straight to chapel. Tolar and 


38 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


Nan kept looking at her and smiling all through the 
hymns. A small note was passed to her. It read, 

“Remember your promise. Did you throw flowers 
last night?” 

On looking up her eyes met Tolar’s twinkling ones. 
She smiled and shook her head. 

Sunday night Nan spent with Evangeline. They had 
retired, but were talking, as girls will. Suddenly under 
their window sounded a chord on a guitar and there 
followed one of the sweetest serenades they had ever 
heard, gentlemen’s voices soft and low. As they peeped 
from behind the curtain, they saw Tolar and knew he 
had planned it. 

“Say, Nan, I will give them some of the flowers that 
I received today. You tie them with this ribbon while I 
write the note. Here, read it.” 

“Nan and I enjoyed the serenade ever, ever so much. 
Accept our thanks. I have kept my promise. Goodnight. 

“M. E. Lee, N. Westwood.” 

Tying it securely in the flowers, she slipped on a 
dress and when they were singing “Goodnight, ladies,” 
raised the window noiselessly and dropped them at his 
feet. The others made a dash for them, but he was too 
quick. The singing died away toward the Heights and 
the girls went to sleep. 

Next morning, as Evangeline entered the corridor, 
she met Nan and Tolar, just as Willet tipped his hat to 
her, and begged her company for a walk in the sea of 
moving students. Tolar wore a rose. He pointed to it 
and said, “Thank you” as they passed, and his eyes 
twinkled merrily. 


CHAPTER VIII 


“Beautiful Bethany! Wilt thou not, like me, soon change? 
No more I’ll wander through thy glades, 

Seek thy open corridor, thy cooling shades— 

Farewell!” 

Evangeline sat at her window, watching the Buffalo 
as it wound in and out among the hills. She had not 
accepted any “biz,” because she wanted to write a letter. 
She had been thinking she would for a long time. ’Twas 
Sunday evening and everything was quiet, as all the 
girls had gone to church; but somehow she did not find 
it easy to write. Moonbeams on the brook appeared and 
still she sat thinking. 

That week she had received a lovely box of flowers 
from Kentucky University—no message, except a card 
with the inscription “Leolaine Leigh” upon it. She 
must thank him for the flowers—that was easy enough— 
but she had promised years ago to correspond with him, 
to write the first letter. The flowers were a gentle 
reminder. Of all the young men she had ever met he 
was the most gentlemanly, the most refined. She would 
enjoy his letters, because he was so nice. She wished 
she had written to him when he had first asked her; and 
she would have, had she not been so timid. Now there 
was a sensitiveness—a feeling that it was not just a 
lady’s place to write the first, or rather introductory, 
letter, which she would never forget, and in the future 
that feeling would ever keep her reserved with him. She 
could never be easy and her own self, yet there was her 
girlish promise. The moon was dipping low on the 
Buffalo. Her pen began to move. 


40 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


“Dear Mr. Leigh: 

“Please accept my thanks for the beautiful flowers 
I received. American beauties have always been my 
favorites of the roses. They have been admired by all 
the girls. ’Twas nice of you to remember me in such 
a way. 

“Memory suggests to me a certain promise I made to 
you a few years ago in regard to my being added to your 
list of correspondents. I appreciated you asking me 
even then, but I was a mere girl. I accept company 
here and have some very pleasant friends. Will enjoy 
fulfilling your request now, if you will pardon my 
timidity of former years. I have always made it a rule 
to never break a promise. 

“Again thanking you for the roses, will say goodbye. 

“Sincerely, 

“Margaret E. Lee.” 

Monday morning Evangeline and her roommate sat 
under a big maple, studying their lesson in Moral Science, 
and two boys occupied the nearest tree to them. ’Twas 
the custom of the students to gather under the trees of 
the campus between classes. The thoughts of the two 
boys, just then, were confined to no particular text-book, 
but dwelt upon Gibson’s “Eternal Question.” 

“Say, Kentucky,” said the Virginia boy, “I feel 
sorry for our little Southern sister, over there, in this 
Northern atmosphere. She retains well the refined 
manner of our sweet sunny Southland. Nan, Katherine, 
Rella, Stella, and Grace are more like Southerners, but 
the rest possess one of the feeling that a house is on fire, 
and while they can be of no assistance, they will elbow 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


41 


room all the same, or die in the attempt. I’m glad the 
South knows no such word as ‘squelch.’ These nutmeg 
Yankees think it a mark of their intelligence. We would 
not speak to a negro servant as they do to every one, for 
all they love (?) the negro. The other day I heard 
Miss Lee ask that personification of Yankeeism, the lesson 
in Political Economy. 

“ ‘Are you not capable of finding it for yourself,’ she 
answered scornfully. It was as much the manner as the 
speech. She gloried that she had ‘squelched’ her; all 
the more because Miss Lee was too much of a lady to 
resent her insult. 

“I’ll pay that lady up, see if I don’t. 

“I was soon taught a lesson when I came here. Those 
snaky-cold beings fell in love with me. You need not 
laugh, they did.” 

‘ ‘ Then you made love to them. ’ ’ 

“No, I declare I did not. The poor things had been 
raised on the cold storage plan until mere politeness made 
them think I was deep in love with them.” 

“You should not be so hard, I know some nice 
Northern girls.” 

‘ ‘ The exceptions, generally you will find, had 
Southern parents. I know we have our faults in Dixie, 
but we have as good right to try to compel them to see 
our way only—through our glasses—as they have us. 
I admit we did wrong in owning slaves. Many of our 
men thought so, but as they had them, they did the best 
they could for them. Tell me who owns slaves now in 
’96? Who are the monopolists? Northern men, enslav¬ 
ing both North and South, both white and black, yellow 
and red. They depend on their masters for their meat 


42 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


and bread. Votes are the same as bought, because they 
are thrown out of work if they vote against the masters’ 
wishes. ’ ’ 

“Yes, now and then a Northern king gets conscience 
smitten and sends a few thousand that he has stolen from 
the South in the war, or as a monopolist, back as a 
present to some institution for the ‘mountain whites’ or 
‘Southern blacks,’ and next year raises his price on 
oil, until he makes it back. Which has the most right 
to talk about the others?” 

Just then G. B. Stuart, Phillip Johnson, and Errett 
McDiarmid joined the two boys. Kentucky wrote on a 
bit of paper, 

“Miss Lee, tell me what you think about the needs 
of the South.” 

and flipped it over at her feet. She blushed, but did not 
pick it up. Her roommate did and spread it out for 
Evangeline to read. The latter scribbled her answer on 
a bit of paper in her note-book and the two girls laughed 
softly at the waiting boys, for they knew she would not 
answer notes during class hours. But Grace, in fun, got 
the paper and flipped it back at them. Kentucky 
announced its contents joyously. 

“To tell you truly, more education for the South by 
the South, and still retain their refinement. More educa¬ 
tion for the darky by the darky—like Booker Wash¬ 
ington.” 

“Hurrah! for our Virginia girl!” sang out Ken¬ 
tucky, all smiles upon her and soon tossed back another 
note— 


Evangeline op Ole Virginia 


43 


“Say, Miss Lee, won’t you please, please give us an 
essay on the ‘mountain whites’ for next Friday night at 
the Neotrophian Literary Society?” 

Evangeline said to Grace, 

“I’ll not write anything that you can throw this time, 
but when I may speak to the owner of this message, will 
say that the ‘mountain white,’ as he expressed it, is the 
hope of our nation; and I will do what I can to give 
them a good essay Friday night, for the boys of that 
society have been so nice to us.” 

Grace scratched away in her tablet as Evangeline 
talked, then was very intent with her lessons. All at once 
the latter heard her very words being repeated by the 
Kentuckian, who stood up and delivered it to his 
audience. Grace had written as Evangeline talked and 
slipped it to the boys when she was not looking. 

On Friday Evangeline received a half a dozen “biz” 
notes to be taken to society, but, of course, she accepted 
the one’s who asked her to write for the society. She 
was first on the programme and recited, without notes, 
the following: 

“There’s a Macedonian cry from the mountains of 
Kentucky, Tennessee, and Virginia, ‘Come over and 
help us! ’ 

“Who is it? 

“As I am addressing a Northern audience, the answer 
comes readily enough, ‘The mountain whites.’ 

“Let me place before you a picture or two. First, 
the mountain, red-cheeked, barefoot boy and girl of the 
true Anglo-Saxon race, standing in the midst of beauty— 
in nature’s garden of arbutus and rhododendron, purple 
rhododendron, ferns, whole fields of them, knee-deep. 


44 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


Whispering pines and murmuring brooks lull them to 
sleep, with ever sweet oxygen-laden breezes from the 
fragrance of the flowers of the forests, ever the songs of 
birds and bees. Ripening are these children in perfect 
purity. I bless thee, vision as thou art. I bless thee with 
the human heart! Mountain maiden with the meek 
brown eyes, the world hath quicksands, the world hath 
snares. No education? Little from books, but much 
from nature about them. Be careful, then, how you 
tread upon this ground. God made the mountains and 
the country, man the towns and tenements. 

“The next picture is in the slums of the city—those 
dens of death both to body and soul. Bohemians, Turks— 
the trash of all nations—are crowded together to be made 
into beasts. For their hungry, pinched children instead 
of a bit of blue sky and nature’s garden, the poisonous 
air of dark, damp basements and tenements where the 
sunshine never enters. Instead of green fields and 
running brooks, dirt, filth, and rags, curses and blows. 
How is their longing for the beautiful fed? 

‘ ‘ The last picture—the boy and girl of society 
parents, educated, perhaps, at Vassar, Harvard or Yale. 
The professors educate them in books, the students in 
life. What have we when they have finished their course 
and have made their debut into society? More often a 
smooth, polished man or woman of the world with a soul 
and life as black as the inhabitants of the slums, but 
educated in how to hide his sins. 

“Now of the three pictures which had you rather 
educate? I say the mountain people. Why? Because 
the most benighted? No, because there is more founda¬ 
tion to make a real, genuine man or woman of character 
of them the quickest of any the United States over. Then 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


45 


why call them 'mountain whites?’ You do not nickname 
the people of the slums. You only say the slums. 
‘Mountain whites’ makes them feel degraded. The 
mountains they love. Be broad enough and with enough 
brotherly love for the Anglo-Saxon to say ‘mountain 
people’—a people without advantages. Educate them 
and they will, in turn, go as missionaries to the slums 
and society, and the teacher will not leave without his 
lessons from them too. 

“They are criticized for their English, their dress, 
their cabins, and their ignorance, yet if a teacher trains 
them only in this, she need not have wasted her time. We 
know that they have need of all these; but education 
means so much more—the bringing out of a beautiful 
character, as a sculptor brings out of stone pure white 
pictures. In these mountains there are some of the 
finest stones from which to carve specimens of manhood 
and womanhood. 

“To sum all up, the question is not to elevate the 
people morally, for their morality would shame our 
educated worldlings. ’Tis not one of their lack of faith, 
for theirs is the simple, firm faith of a child. Nor is it a 
missionary work of charity to a base, filthy place like 
the slums of the cities, for they come as near living in 
a Garden of Eden in respect to beautiful scenery, pure 
air, and water as any people of the earth—the home of a 
pure, clean race of good looking men with bright eyes 
and vigorous minds. Often colonial families from 
eastern Virginia, journeying westward, and lost in the 
Appalachian mountains, settled there, losing the advan¬ 
tages of their more fortunate brothers. Some think best 
to leave them alone with nature and God, contented. 
This might be, were it not that the greed of the world 


46 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


already has found the natural resources of the moun¬ 
tains—the majestic poplars, oaks, and other timber; 
railroads are entering and coal-fields are being opened 
up. Therefore, the mountain people need true education 
to teach them how to meet the outside world. They need 
to retain their virtues and individuality and become 
acquainted with only the best elements of modern civil¬ 
ization, for our civilization carries with it evils. The 
question is, How can we give them our best advantages 
and leave our faults behind? To accomplish this we 
must send, not cheap teachers, but the very best , and 
most consecrated. Trained by such teachers we will have 
a people who will raise the standard of our whole nation. 

“Mountainous Switzerland is one of the most beauti¬ 
ful countries of the world and its liberty-loving people 
one of the best. To the Appalachian mountains must we 
look for our Switzerland of America. 

‘ ‘ God bless our mountains! ’ ’ 

The two Southern boys were overjoyed, and amid the 
applause that followed Evangeline found her place. She 
had no sooner done so that Errett McDiarmid leaned 
over and whispered to her, 

“I’m coming down to teach some mountain children 
when I’m through school. They interest me since you 
passed such a compliment upon them; that is, if you 
think I’m capable.” 

“We will be glad to have you.” 

“Yes,” joined in Kentucky, “you will never be sorry 
that you took your post-graduate course there. Hazel 
Green is not a great distance from my home. ’ ’ 

“I, too, am trying to fit myself for one of your 
teachers, Miss Lee. Look for me in Virginia,” whispered 
Phillip Johnson. 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


47 


‘'Thank you.” 

“Who would have ever guessed such deep thought 
from such a quiet, modest girl?” said Willet to G. B. 
Stuart. “I would love to know if the large diamond she 
wears is an engagement ring.” 

“I can’t inform you, old boy; we would all love to 
know. She had it when she came.” 


CHAPTER IX 


“We should look up for help and then down to help.” 

“Here’s a pretty letter for you, Miss Lee. It’s pale 
blue and smells so faintly sweet. It must be from way 
off, ’ ’ said seven-year-old Garda, the dining-room 
woman’s little girl, who carried the mail to the girl’s 
rooms. 

“Thank you, Garda.” ^ 

“Dear Miss Lee: 

“Am glad you enjoyed the flowers; and I am cer¬ 
tainly pleased to know that it was no depreciation of me 
that caused you to refuse my petition of former years. 
It has ever been my desire to be gentlemanly, in every 
sense, to all ladies. I trust you deem me none the less 
worthy because I expressed my desire to hear from you 
a few years ago. I appreciated you—as a little girl— 
very much. I was just your age then, too, and not an old 
gentleman. Young ladies are only girls grown tall. 

“It may not interest you to know that I am taking 
the ministerial course now, and like it very much. 
Brother McGarvey is such a splendid Bible teacher. 

“When you answer this missive, please tell me all 
about Bethany and the interesting places surrounding. 
I enclose our college song. 

“‘Come, boys, sing to old K U. 

And sing to wake the echoes, too. 

To the crimson flag our hearts are true. 

Come, boys! Come, boys! sing to old K U. 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


49 


“‘K U, K U, we love thy crimson glory, 

K U, K U, in legend, song, and story. 

K U, K U, oh loud her praises tell, 

K U, K U, thy name shall ever dwell.’ 

“I would be glad to receive your Bethauy college 
song. 

“Au revoir, 

“Most truly your friend, 

“Leolaine Leigh.” 

As she folded up her letter, Nan’s voice sounded 
through the hall, 

“The ball team has gone to play ‘Little Washington’ 
and the professors are going to take the girls. Hurry 
up, everybody! The matron will chaperon us and we are 
going in a great big bus draped in college colors, for we 
must show those Washington and Jefferson boys that 
there are girls at Bethany as well as boys.” 

When at last they drove into town, it was to see 
Bethany beaten for the first time in her twenty games of 
that year. But the victorious ones were going to give a 
banquet to the defeated at the best hotel. Bethany girls 
were sought by both Bethany, and Washington and 
Jefferson boys, and a splendid time they had, as only 
school-girls can have. 

After study hours all fall there were games of tennis 
and croquet. In the winter came the jingle of sleigh- 
bells and merry rides through tunneled bridges to 
Wellsburg. Now and then there were banquets by the 
fraternities, and the two societies every Friday night 
kept little Garda tripping upstairs to announce to each 
girl that her “biz” waited below. 


50 


Evangeline op Ole Virginia 


Thus passed the winter. With spring came walks to 
“Lover’s Retreat,” “Logan’s Hollow,” the hanging 
bridge, to the cemetery and the Campbell homestead 
where Mrs. Campbell, ninety-five years old, would give 
each student a parting blessing. 

One Saturday afternoon Evangeline sat all alone 
under a large tree of the campus reading a letter from 
Leon. Most of the students had gone for botany speci¬ 
mens. She was thinking over the paragraph, 

“I will be going home in May. Will you let me stop 
to see you? It has been a long time since we met.” 

when a soft step startled her, and looking up she met the 
tender, dreamy eyes of Willet. He held his hat in one 
hand and a book in the other. 

“Pardon me, Miss Lee, but may I talk a little while? 
I’m tired of reading. ’ ’ 

“Certainly,” said she, dropping the sheets of her 
letter hurriedly in her book in her lap. 

“Are you studying the lesson in Mental Philosophy?” 

“No.” 

‘ ‘ Moral ? ’ ’ 

“No, guess again.” 

He gently took the book from her lap. 

“Oh! my letter!” said she. 

“Certainly,” but he had already opened it, and the 
post-mark and signature on the letter faced him. 
“Won’t you let me read it?” looking at her inquiringly. 

“I can hardly grant that petition,” blushing and 
taking the letter while he retained the book. 

For a long time he said nothing, then turning over 
the pages of the book he said, 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


51 


“The book isn’t it, Miss Lee. Please read aloud the 
lesson, and we will study it together. My throat hurts. 
It’s in Revelations, about Christ and His bride, such a 
beautiful comparison. I am preparing a sermon on that 
text; and can picture in my mind a beautiful young lady 
clad in snowy whiteness, giving to the man she loves, her 
hand, heart, and life, proud to bear his name and 
troubles, because she loves him. Thus we accept the 
Christ. I have often wondered how those who have 
accepted Him could be content with any other name 
except Christian, and why some dislike us because we 
call ourselves Christians/’ 

When they had finished the lesson, he said, 

“You would make such a good minister’s wife. 1 
came to be made ready for the ministry. Did you come 
to be trained for the queen of some parsonage and 
parish?” 

She blushed, for that truly was one reason, because 
she had always thought her husband would be a minister. 

‘ ‘ I should not have asked that question; but I wish 
for you the happiest life that can be given to mortals. 
The letter and the ring you wear keep me from saying 
some things I wish to say; lucky the favored one.” 

It was only her mother’s diamond wedding ring, but 
she thought best to say nothing. Just then Harry Hill 
and Katherine Ralston, Herbert Moninger and Grace, 
Nan and Tolar were seen coming toward them. The 
girls had their handwork. As they drew near, Willet 
said, 

“Please, will you be my ‘biz’ for the rest of the 
afternoon? At four the ball team is going to serve the 
faculty and students with ice cream and cake. ’ ’ 

If the reader gets the impression that no studying 


52 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


was done at Bethany, then it is a sure fact that he was 
never a student there. For they alone know the hard 
lessons and strict professors; and if he thinks the 
incidents herein mentioned never occurred, let him ask 
any student of the years ’95 and ’96 and he will tell 
him the same and a great deal more, for all would fill a 
book in itself. 

To all students and professors of ‘‘Old Bethany” 
who may read these pages, greetings! Especially to 
those of the years mentioned above. There is such a 
sweet spirit of loyalty and affection that hovers around 
Bethany that when one has once experienced it, it never 
dies. Be they from North, East, South or West, they 
all love and are loyal to their Alma Mater. 


CHAPTER X 


“Housework is for today; home work is for eternity.” 

“Hyah, Christine, fix this dressin’ an’ eggs fo’ me. 
Nen yo’ run down in de cellah an’ fotch me dat big 
fruit cake an’ de ice-cream. I can’t leab dis tu’key fo’ 
uh minit, kaze I wan’ hit uh light yallah. Ize got 
sumfin ’ ob ebbah ting I ken pet muh han’s on fo ’ suppah 
tonight. Hyah! ta’ keer, Ize drapped de dishrag. 
Somebody is uh-comin’ hungry sho,” and Mammy 
indulged in a fat-sides chuckle. “Ize knows hull’s good 
an’ hungry attah stayin’ so long wid dem light bread 
an’ crackah Yankees. Dis suppah mus’ be on time tuh 
de berry no’ch.” Mammy shaded her eyes and 
scanned the road up and down. ‘ ‘ Isom’s hed neahly time 
tuh be back. Bless huh soul, Mammy wan’s tuh see 
huh sho. Chris, run in de big ’ouse an’ look outen de 
doh an’ see ef yo’ sees dem cornin’.” 

After waiting some time she said to herself, “Wondah 
whut dat gal’s uh-doin’?” and she started with the 
turkey in her hands into the dining-hall, which was 
darkened. All at once someone caught her. 

“Guess who it is,” said a happy voice in the darkness. 

“Bless de good Lo’d, honey, is dat yo’? How yo’ git 
in hyah? I nebbah heahd uh soun’, nuh seen uh sign o’ 
yo ’, doh I watched de road contin ’ly. 

“To surprise you I had uncle Isom drive around the 
other way and come in over the grass so you would not 
hear us, for I knew your eyes were at that kitchen 
window. ’ ’ 


54 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


Mammy raised the blind to get some light and 
exclaimed, 

“Bless me, honey, ef I didn’ know ’twuz yo’, I’d say 
’twuz mnh lady Mahg’ret, only purtier eben, an’ des 
lak huh in yo’ dignity ways.” 

‘ ‘ Um-m-m-m! how good everything smells! ’ ’ 

“Set right down tuh de table, honey, an’ I brings de 
res’ in fas’, fo’ I knows yo’ is hungry.” 

“This looks like a banquet of one of the fraternities, 
Mammy, only better.” 

“Don’ knows ’bout dat yo’ speaks ob, honey, but 
mos’ de t’ings is ’licious tonight.” 

“How good it is to be at home once more. There is 
something so stately and grand about our home, isn’t 
there, Mother?” 

“Yes, dear, your papa made Leeland beautiful for 
us and I am glad you like it. In it I want to spend my 
life, and you live on in the old homestead. I am glad 
you have not changed.” 

11 Thank you, Mother, I had rather have you say that 
than anything. Being with Northern people made me 
a stronger Southerner, and also to appreciate them for 
their worth, too. ’ ’ 

“Humph!” said Mammy, with a curl of her nose. 
“Dey ought tuh be wuth right smart attah scavengerin’ 
’bout in de Souf durin’ de wah.” 

“Mammy, I mean not their money, but their energy.” 

“Yo’ wouldn’ say dat so sof’ ef yo’ wuz yo’ gre’t 
gran’ma dat libed den. Yo’s right ’bout dat enuhgy; 
dey could roust ’bout an’ tek off de gre’t big bosses ob 
de womens in a jiffy,” and Mammy hustled into the 
kitchen for biscuits. 

An hour or so they lingered in the dining-hall until 
Evangeline had to protest, 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


“No, no, Mammy, I must not eat any more tonight. 
Everything was so good, and I have enjoyed my supper 
more than I can ever express. Thank you so much for 
the time you spent on it—all for me. Now, come, let 
me show you what I have brought you and mother and 
uncle Isom. While he unstraps my trunk, I’ll run take 
a peep in each room.” 

Up she went, singing, “On the Banks of the Old 
Buffalo,” but soon changed it to “Home, Sweet Home.” 

‘ ‘ Whut’s in dis big box, honey chile ? ’ ’ 

“That’s my paintings, see?” 

“ ’Pon muh wo’d, ef dat ain’ me an’ yo’, honey, when 
yo’ lil baby. An’ dah Miss Virgini an’ Marse Robert, 
an’ dis look at de purty pictahs o’ ebbah t’ing obah 
dah. Did yo’ ra’ly mek dem, honey?” 

“Yes.” 

“Wal, wal, de pahlah will sho shine now. Ize gwine 
lea'b dem dishes till mawnin’, soz I ken set on de po’ch 
in de moonlight an’ heah yo’ play on dat guitah.” 

There was rejoicing in that little home circle that 
night. 


CHAPTER XI 


“Oh, young Lochinvar is come out of the West, 

Thro’ all the wide Border his steed was the best.” 

Uncle Ed, aunt Celeste, and Maudrey arrived 
Wednesday morning. After the greetings were over, 
Maudrey said: 

‘‘Aunt Virginia, ’tis such a nice morning I want to 
take Evangeline for a little drive. May I?” 

“Yes, Maudrey, but do not be late for dinner.’’ 

Once out of the gate and rolling along the gravel, he 
exclaimed, 

“Do tell me about the house party. I’m dying to 
know. Who on earth have you for me?” 

“The sweetest girl I know, Maudrey, Muriel Murland, 
my roommate when at Virginia College. I just love her 
and I know you—you— ’ ’ 

“I will. Is that it? Um! We will wait and see. 
That tender emotion for the fair ones has never visited 
this heart of mine—except for you, little cousin. Is she 
a blonde or a brunette ? ’ ’ 

“She is pretty, Maudrey, has brown eyes and brown 
lashes, and yellow hair that waves. She is not so slend.er 
as I am or so tall. Has the sweetest disposition, a most 
graceful manner; and a pure white soul. ’ ’ 

“That’s a very nice description. Not hard to love I 
should think. Now who else?” 

“Nan Westwood and Mr. Tolar, who are engaged; 
Katherine Ralston and Harry Hill, also engaged. These 
are Bethany schoolmates of mine. I invited Grace 
Cooper, my roommate, and Herbert Moninger, but they 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


57 


could not come. Neither could Mr. Willet, because he is 
having trouble with his throat.” 

“I see, four couples and no more. ’Tis certainly 
nice of you, Evangeline, to give us two weeks so enjoy¬ 
able, and I am at your service for any assistance I can 
give. I suppose it’s the thing for those not engaged to 
become engaged. Now I must take aunt Virginia’s little 
girl home for dinner. So tomorrow afternoon I’m to 
be the host and go with uncle Isom to the station after 
the party. Oh! my heart is getting weak even now.” 

“Honey, dey’s cornin’. I heah’s de click o’ de big 
gate.” 

Sure enough, up the driveway came the carriages and 
two young men on horseback. In the receiving line on 
the great stone steps was the Leeland household, even to 
Mammy, who was ready for suitcases and bundles. 
Evangeline was the center of attraction. Everyone 
wished to greet her, and she was eager to welcome each 
guest. A little apart from the group stood a tall, hand¬ 
some fellow who had just dismounted, modestly waiting 
his turn. He stepped forward gallantly, saying, as he 
extended his hand, 

“Last, but not least, I hope, Miss Lee.” 

There was such sweet emphasis in his tone, and such 
an unmistakable look of admiration in his eyes that 
Evangeline could not keep the blushes from chasing 
each other across her cheeks as she said, 

“Glad to see you again at Leeland, Mr. Leigh.” 

“Thank you, I have been looking forward with great 
pleasure to this date ever since you gave me permission 
to stop, but that I am to be a member of this house party 
is a delightful surprise beyond my dreamings. I see you 
can keep secrets until you are ready to reveal them. Let 


58 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


me thank you in advance,” and he took her arm as they 
went up the steps together. 

Soon in the girls’ rooms Mammy was opening suit¬ 
cases that revealed tennis suits of white duck, pretty 
evening dresses, kimonos and dainty underwear, while 
in the boys’ rooms uncle Isom bobbed about until 
Maudrey stopped him by a pat on the shoulder, saying, 

“What are you doing, old boy?” 

“Ize jes’ puttin’ de gem’ns’ undahwah in de 
dressah. ’ ’ 

“Say, boys, listen how disrespectfully he speaks of 
our white flannel suits. Be careful, uncle, and do not 
wrinkle them. Put our tennis slippers in the dressing- 
room ; and when we have gone downstairs, give this box 
of candy and the basket of fruit to Mammy to give to 
the young ladies.” 

“All right, sah. Ken I be ob any sahvice tuh yo’ 
sah?” and uncle Isom began to brush Leigh’s coat. 

‘ ‘ Thank you, uncle, I believe you may. ’ ’ 

“Mistah Maudrey, don’ fohgit de tube-rose fo’ each 
gem’n’s coat on de table dah.” 

On the white linen in the dining-hall was a meal 
that could come from no other than a Southern cook’s 
hands. In the parlor after supper, there gathered quite 
a little string band—Nan at the piano, Katherine and 
Tolar with mandolins, Maudrey the banjo, Miss Murland 
the violin, Leigh and Evangeline guitars, and Harry 
Hill a harp. 

The evening was a gay one, full of innocent mirth and 
with the hospitality characterizing Virginia homes. Not 
until late were the goodnights said, 

The second night a full, new moon rose into a clear 
sky just as the dusk grew into darkness. “The Happy 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


59 


Eight,” as the party called themselves, with sofa-pillows 
and musical instruments went through the pines to spend 
the evening on Lake Lucerne. Moored to the bank were 
two pretty white boats waiting, one carpeted and 
furnished in baby-blue, the other in pink. Maudrey 
unfastened the first. Into it stepped Nan and Tolar. 

“Come with us, Evangeline,” Nan said. 

Leigh helped her in, arranged the pillows, and took 
his place by her side. Off they glided. 

Maudrey freed the second, and with the rest of the 
party sailed out after the other boat, singing, 

“White Wings, they never grow weary, 

They carry me cheerily over the sea. 

White Wings, I long for you, dearie, 

I’ll spread out my white wings 
And sail home to thee.” 

“A scene like this would make a crusty old maid 
grow romantic,” said he, drawing alongside the others. 

“It’s like a poet’s dream,” added Leigh, who was 
gathering dripping lilies from their watery beds. 

In a little while all dropped their oars, and let the 
boats go drifting here and there, while the melody of 
their stringed instruments and their voices floated up to 
Mrs. Lee and Mr. and Mrs. Legend like the voices of the 
night. ’Twas not long until Maudrey’s crew sailed down 
to the farthest end of the lake to feed the fish. In the 
other boat there was silence. Leigh and Tolar, lost in 
inspiration, had changed seats with the ladies and sat 
side by side opposite them with blank books, trying to 
put in words the beauty of the hour. Nan hummed a 
song, accompanying it with a soft touch on the guitar. 


60 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


In the sweet calm Evangeline’s heart lay at rest, filled 
with a blissful sense of peace, as she idly dipped her 
hand in the water by the boat’s side, lost in dreams as 
she loved to do. 

Some ten or fifteen minutes she sat thus, when some¬ 
thing caused her to look up; to find, at one glance, that 
Tolar alone was writing, Nan weaving something out of 
a kind of waterweed. Singing floated soft and low from 
the other boat; while the deep, wonderful eyes of Leigh 
were reading her face. For how long she knew not; but 
time could never efface from her memory the impression 
of that glance. There was in his soul-speaking eyes 
trust, tenderness, boundless love, devotion, worship, and 
all that was good, as if she were the purest, most beauti¬ 
ful creature his eyes ever looked upon. 

The color arose at once to her cheeks, even though she 
tried not to notice it, and in her confusion she dropped 
half the water-lilies she held in her lap. He felt so 
embarrassed that he had been suddenly caught with his 
soul in his eyes that he was glad enough to fish for the 
flowers. When he gave them again to her, there was 
such an air and look of, “I most humbly beg your pardon, 
Miss Lee, ’ ’ that she felt sorry for him, yet she said only, 
“Thank you” and turned to help Nan weave, while he 
and Tolar finished their writing. 

An hour or so afterward the other boat drew up 
alongside, and they rowed abreast to the shore, singing, 
“Goodnight, ladies” and went in for the night. 


CHAPTER XII 


“I steal by lawns and grassy plots, 

I slide by hazel covers, 

I move the sweet forget-me-nots 
That grow for happy lovers." 

“Humph!” said uncle Isom, who gloried in “de 
fam’bly style.” “Muh lil lady’s got quality sho nuf 
dis time. Jes’ yo’ look out dah playin’ tennis at all dem 
folks dress’ in white fum dey haids to dey feets, gem’n 
an’ ladies bof.” 

“Well, don’ ’spose yo’ ig’ranee. Jes’ ten’ lak yo’ 
see hit evvah day, an’ I guess yo’ will fo’ some time 
now,” said Mammy with a humiliating glance. “Yo’ 
bettah watch which kyahd yo ’ puts on dat box o ’ flowahs 
Marse Maudrey ax yo’ tuh han’ tuh Miss Muhlan’ wid 
his comp’iments, ur yo’ will be uh-bobbin’ an’ scrapin’ 
at huh doh wid dat box o’ Mistah Leigh’s white flannel 
breeches he sen’ yo’ fah in town, nen yo’—bless muh 
soul! yo’s done gwine an’ puts hit on dah already! Nen 
yo’ wud uh-seed uh sight yo’ nevvah seed befo’! Reckon 
Miss Muhlan ’ gwine wah Mistah Leigh’s breeches ? ’ ’ and 
Mammy turned her face away to hide a smile. 

Meanwhile, at the tennis court, Maudrey was scoring, 
“Forty I love. No, just one I love,” and looked at 
Evangeline adoringly. She made it convenient to pass 
him to say, 

“Quit putting that look in your eyes. If you can’t , 
shut them tight. ’ ’ 

He did, and when the ball came over, it struck him in 
the chest. He clasped both hands over his heart and said 
so everybody could hear, 


62 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


“Oh! cousin, don’t break my poor heart both visibly 
and invisibly.” He loved to keep Leon in hot water, for 
he saw that he liked Evangeline very much, but tried so 
hard just to be pleasant to her and not let her know that 
he did. Then, too, he was a little jealous that Evangeline 
should like Leigh. She had always been his cousin and 
his only. He often made it convenient to speak low to 
her with a mysterious air and an attitude of devotion 
when all he had to say was, 

“Tell me, coz, what dessert are we going to have 
today?” or, “Just see how Miss Murland would love to 
be you! Pretty, isn’t she ? ’ ’ 

Sometimes he would go to the piano and sing in 
heartrending tones some sentimental song, looking at 
her beseechingly; then glance at Muriel to see if it 
bothered her. 

“Mr. Leigh is to preach for us at Bethany next 
Sunday. I want to hear him so much,” said Evangeline 
to Maudrey as she tied his tie for him in her mother’s 
room. 

“Do you, cousin? Well, he had rather preach to an 
audience of one on the text, ‘God is Love,’ or ‘We love 
Him, because he first loved us’.” 

“Now, Maudrey.” 

‘ ‘ Of course he would; and there are others who would 
enter the ministry just for that privilege.” 

“You know ’tis not true.” 

“True as steel; but you are so reserved that no man 
will ever know you to be the sweet, precious gem you are 
until they have known you as long as I have. Leigh will 
never look any nearer heaven than when he manages to 
get in a boat, alone with you, and drift toward the water- 
lilies and swans; especially, in the moonlight, when there 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


63 


is soft music on shore, or in the other 'boat. He is ever 
gathering 4 forget-me-nots’ along the bank. I believe there 
is a certain little girl likes all this right well herself. 
Love with you, Evangeline, is never cheap, but always 
of the highest and best. In white suits, in a white bo^t, 
you and he make a pretty picture, cousin. I snapped one 
the other day—see here. You may have this one; I 
have already given Leigh one. Thank you for tying my 
tie,” and kissing her, before she could prevent it, he was 
off singing, 

4 4 Gin a body meet a body coming through the rye, 
Gin a body kiss—” 

and stopped short, bowing profusely to Muriel, who was 
descending the staircase right at him, face to face, but 
she turned quickly to ascend, 

4 4 Come back, Miss Murland, I am not so bad as I 
appear. I was just teasing cousin in the room there,” 
and his hearty laugh rang out all through the house. By 
that time Evangeline arrived and putting her arm 
around Muriel they all three joined the reading-circle 
under the pines. 

Next day the guests, in the honeysuckle arbor, were 
stemming cherries. Evangeline in the kitchen was pre¬ 
paring a shortcake, her sleeves rolled up, collar off, and 
neck turned in to keep cool. Her cheeks were red and 
the perspiration curled stray locks of her hair. She had 
just started to put part of the cake in the oven when 
someone caught her in his strong arms and around and 
around in a waltz he carried her, pan and all, singing, 
“Just One Girl.” Mammy, who was putting down corn 
hoe-cakes, said, 


64 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


“Marse Maudrey, do let de chile ’lone. Dat cake 
won’ be ready fo’ dinnah. Ize nevvah see sich uh 
monkey in all muh bawn days. ’ ’ 

“Say, Mammy, let me beat the biscuits,” said he, 
brushing the flour off of his coat. 

“Yo’s de one needs de heatin’.” 

“Say, Mammy, don’t you want a spin like dat?” 

“I’ll spin yo’, yo’ don’ go tuh de yahd attah dem 
charries an’ quit boddahin’ ’roun’ in dis kitchin.” 

Evangeline had succeeded in getting her cake into 
the oven and and turned around to roll more when, to her 
surprise, Leon stood in the doorway, his hat in one hand, 
the dish of cherries in the other, a half-pleased expression 
in his eyes. He had seen it all. 

“Please, Mammy, may I hand Miss Lee these 
cherries,” said he. 

“Sut’nly, sut’nly,” replied she, courtseying low. 

‘ ‘ Miss Lee, may I bring them in ? ” 

“If you like,” said she, embarrassed. 

“Such partiality is unendurable,” mockingly moaned 
Maudrey, sailing out to the arbor to return with the 
whole company, who stood just outside watching Evange¬ 
line rolling dough and Leon sitting by the table very 
much contented, Mammy, very important, shuffling 
about. 

‘ ‘ Hurrah for the short-cake, ’ ’ sang out Maudrey. 

“Mr. Leigh’s on ‘biz’ in the kitchen,” said Nan. 

Uncle Isom came in at the big gate with the morning’s 
mail and drew the ones outside to the front. 

“A letter for Leigh from his best girl,” was heard 
above the other voices. 

“Please excuse me, Miss Lee. I’ll go before your 
cousin reads my letter, if I have any.” 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


65 


Evangeline quickly donned her collar and rolled down 
her sleeves in her mother’s room before joining the 
group; and was just in time to hear Maudrey sing out, 

“A letter for Mr. and Mrs. Harry Hill!” 

“Come, Miss Lee, you may share my letter with me, 
as I see you have none. It is from Brother McGarvey, 
with some catalogues like I had the first time I ever was 
at this enchanted spot. Would you not enjoy looking 
through them in the boat? It is nice and cool there,” 
ventured Leon, taking the opportunity while everyone 
else was interested in their letters. 

A few minutes later “Silver Waves” glided from the 
shore out among the water-lilies. Somewhat later still 
the chime of the Japanese gong in the hall-way announced 
dinner. 

That night was spent with Mammy in the kitchen, 
the girls making fudge, caramels, and other candies, 
while the young men hulled peanuts for the candy around 
the kitchen hearth, and toasted marshmallows over the 
lamps, keeping up a laugh at their merry jokes. There 
was a sweet manner characteristic of Evangeline that 
made the most commonplace duty dignified and im¬ 
portant when she touched it. This Leon noticed, and it 
made his two visits to the kitchen most enjoyable. 

With Mrs. Lee and Mr. and Mrs. Legend as chaperons 
several days were spent visiting interesting places in 
Virginia—Luray Cave, Endless Caverns, Natural Bridge, 
Lost River, The University of Virginia, Monticello and 
Washington and Lee. 

“I have always wanted to see the marble statue of 
General Lee that reclines before the rostrum in the 
chapel, does it not?” asked Muriel. 

“Yes, come this way, and you will see it in a very 


66 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


few minutes, but the vault is just below, and General 
Lee’s study is in the basement by the vault, with every¬ 
thing in it just as he left it. The carpet is too worn to 
be swept for company, Miss Murland,” said Maudrey. 

“I do not mind what ‘Father Time’ has done to the 
carpet. Now let us go see the study. ’ ’ 

“What makes you tremble so, Miss Murland? Are 
you afraid of the dead?” he asked as she drew back and 
really clung to him, the others waiting, too. 

“No, but it’s living!” 

Just then a black cat dashed through the crowd and 
more than one young man had a lady clinging to him. 

“I could see its eyes shining in the dark in the base¬ 
ment long before it came up,” she explained. 

“You did not give me time to introduce you to 
General Lee’s cat,” and Maudrey’s laugh roared through 
basement and chapel. 

“Son, you’ll wake the dead,” said his father. By 
this time they were looking over a room that seemed filled 
with its owner’s presence. “He was an excellent presi¬ 
dent: his natural ability and nobleness, a true F. F. V., 
his education, and then his training at West Point com¬ 
bined to make him so. ’ ’ 

“I have often wondered why he was not buried at 
Arlington. ’Tis so pretty there.” 

“Pardon me, but we did not want him sleeping among 
the Yankees in his own yard, Miss Ralston,” exclaimed 
Tolar, whose eyes danced like fire, for while he lived in 
New York City, he was a Democrat. “The parting scene 
between the General and his army was pathetic beyond 
description. As he rode slowly along the lines, we are 
told hundreds of his devoted veterans pressed around 
the noble chief, trying to take his hand, or even lay a 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


67 


hand upon his horse. With head bare and tears flowing 
down his manly cheeks, he bade adieu to his army.” 

“Hey, Isom, we must be going,” called uncle Ed 
from the chapel steps. 

“Yas, sah,” and a few minutes later they were home¬ 
ward bound. 

“So much sightseeing makes me hungry. Fish us 
out the rest of today’s lunch and let us finish it,” said 
Maudrey. 

“Miss ’Vangeline, please yo’ ax Marse Maudrey tuh 
quit puttin’ dem chicken bones down muh collah, uh he 
nebbah will quit,” said uncle Isom chuckling. 

“You will not object if I put one with meat on it in 
your mouth, will you ? ’ ’ replied the offender. 

“Not ’zactly.” 

’Twas the last night of the house party. Suitcases 
were packed for the morning train. Two weeks so 
delightfully spent gave to all a sad, sweet feeling at part¬ 
ing. The girls were dressed in their most becoming 
attire in honor of the occasion. 

Evangeline wore her hair in a great coil, low on 
her neck, and a beautiful dress. They had been to 
the lake and serenaded the older folks, who sat in 
the library. Then each couple sought their favorite 
spot on the lawn. Like some Druid queen, Evangeline 
sat among the pines with Leon. In the honeysuckle arbor 
Nan and Tolar were talking of their coming wedding and 
entertaining as royally as they could in their little home 
in big New York City the members of this same house 
party. Katherine and Hill had their corner. Maudrey 
was making good use of his last few hours, for he was not 
yet engaged. 


68 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


Mammy sat at the window of Mrs. Lee’s room, while 
grandfather’s clock measured time for all: when he 
announced ten, and the little figures on top came out 
and danced about, the guests began coming in for the 
night. She heard from the pines a gentleman’s voice 
very soft and low, 

“Goodnight, angels guard you.” 

‘ ‘ Um-umph! ’ ’ said Mammy. ‘ ‘ De angels sho ’ly mus ’ 
be nigh,” and she climbed the staircase to light up the 


rooms. 


CHAPTER XIII 


“In Paradise an angel 
The gate throws wide, 

And speeds the glad evangel 
Of Christmas tide." 

’Twas the first night of the new year. Inside the 
great parlor was warmth and cheer. The firelight played 
over the floor, lighting up every corner and crevice, then 
flickered and flashed up the walls and shone on the rich 
old mahogany furniture and handsome oil paintings— 
handsomer with their bright colors in contrast to the 
Christmas evergreens that hung in festoons from one to 
the other, and from pillar to cornice. Garnet apples on 
a low stand near the fire vied with the holly-berries’ 
ruddy red—“an apple, a book, and a good oak fire.” 

Evangeline had been invited out most every day and 
evening of the past week, but tonight was the climax to 
the pleasant happenings. The snowflakes played games 
on the window-panes to remind her that there was some¬ 
thing better still. Some one was coming that night— 
just one to entertain and not a crowd. Uncle Isom, in 
the sleigh, was already on the way to the station. 

“I’ll wear his roses tonight,” said she to herself as 
she pinned a dark red bud in her hair and a full-blown 
rose just over her heart, where its rich red petals shone 
in pretty contrast against her black satin dress—soft and 
beautiful. Her hair was done low with strappings of 
black velvet. The only ornament to her costume was a 
little gold cross that hung from a tiny black velvet 
ribbon around her neck—a present that Christmas 


70 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


from Maudrey. She sat looking through her pretty book, 
a handsome volume of Longfellow’s Evangeline , beauti¬ 
fully illustrated in full-page life studies. Neatly tied to 
it with tiny red ribbon was a spray of holly and a card 
which bore the inscription, “Leolaine Leigh, Wishing 
many happy returns of the day.” 

In the big cut-glass vase were hothouse roses so 
fresh and fragrant they appeared damp with the dews 
of summer—American Beauties, Marechal Neils, and 
White Brides. Their card said, 

“The flowers bring their own message. L. L.” 

Now and then she glanced through the dancing snow¬ 
flakes for the light of the sleigh. Meanwhile, nearly a 
mile away someone was saying, 

“Uncle?” 

“Yas, sah.” 

“How’s everybody at Leeland?” 

“Fine, sah, fine; hed uh big Chris’mus. Yas, sah , 
Miss ’Vangeline is uh bawn angel, dat she is! Nevvah 
fohgits ole uncle Isom nuthah. See dis new obahcoat? 
Dah been lots uh pahties an’ dinin’s in de neighbahhood 
all fru de week. Is dah any cotton on yo ’ ? De reason I 
axes, becase huh hed me fo’ Santa fo’ de Sunday school 
ehillen, an’ dis sled wuz jes’ covahed wid cotton. I 
hain’t hed time tuh git hit off.” 

“Cotton is harmless, uncle.” 

A click of the big gate and a light from the window 
fell across the snow far down the drive. At the jingle 
of sleigh-bells Evangeline arose and saw a gentleman 
emerge from the furs and come briskly up the walk, 
smiling as the snow-flakes pelted him in the face. A 
knock. Then, as the door opened, 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


71 


“How do you do! A glad New Year to you, Miss 
Lee!” 

Ah, the grasp of that hand, bringing with it the 
consciousness that its owner had mastered self to all 
that’s high and noble; therefore was unconsciously a 
master of men, even more of women, who admire strength 
in men. “Or should I have said Mrs. Santa?” and his 
eyes twinkled merrily. 

“What has uncle Isom been telling?” 

“Certainly very pleasant bits of news, I assure you,” 
and shaking the snow from his coat and hat he entered. 

“Leeland is lovelier than ever in holiday attire,” said 
he, delighted with the warmth of the great fire and the 
pretty decorations; and he wanted to say the same of 
the little lady now sitting opposite him with one of his 
roses in her dark hair and another one rising and falling 
on her bosom with each breath; but was afraid it would 
sound like flattery, so refrained. 

“There is a time with sweethearts when each knows 
the other loves, yet the old story all unconfessed seems 
sweeter and more sacred when no words have been 
spoken—only their hearts unto their souls have spoken. 
Lovers find no sweeter joy than this in all their love- 
life.” Thus it was with Leon and Evangeline. Need 
you be told ’twas the happiest evening of their lives? 
Ah! no. Those who have loved with a pure heart know 
’tis true. 


CHAPTER XIV 


“Take back the heart that thou gavest; 

What is thine anguish to me? 

Take back the freedom thou cravest, 

Leaving its fetters to me.” 

Eight months and over have passed since that New 
Year’s evening. Evangeline, dressed in a traveling-suit, 
sits at the window watching, not the snow-flakes, but the 
green fields and all that the month of September brings. 
Plow beautiful lay the future before her! Hope, Faith, 
and Love painted pictures lovelier than brush or pen 
could ever do. 

Uncle Ed had been elected congressman that winter 
and had moved to Washington, much to the delight of 
his wife. Maudrey in every letter all summer had urged 
her to come spend the winter with them. “If you wish 
to attend school, there are a number of good ones from 
which to choose. If not, you will find it profitable any¬ 
way, to say nothing of the delightful time one has here,” 
he had said. 

She had long wanted to take a course in kindergarten 
work. How nice it would be to help Leon: to teach the 
little children of the parish where he was pastor, when 
they should get married some day. Would he think her 
a blessing? Then she had written to Maudrey, asking 
about kindergarten schools, and he had answered, 

“Come ahead, cousin, a fine one here on Q Street, 
near the street where are the pretty legations. I am 
delighted.” 

So her trunk was packed for Washington, that love- 


Evangeline op Ole Virginia 


73 


liest of all cities to Uncle Sam’s children. In her lap 
was a letter from Leon that she had just read. It said: 

“I’m glad you are going to stop over at Charlottes¬ 
ville for the convention on your way to Washington. 
May I have your company through the convention ? For 
I will not see you again for a long time. I am to be 
State evangelist for Virginia. What think you of it? 

I trust to see you soon. ... 

Au revoir, 

“Leolaine Leigh.” 

She did not have time to answer by mail, but could in 
person. “What did I think of his being State evangelist? 
Quite an honor for so young a minister. I’m glad he 
does not leave Virginia for other fields. Ah ! those happy 
days in Charlottesville. A winter in Washington and—” 
she was awakened from her reveries by a call from uncle 
Isom, 

“All’s ready, Miss ’Vangeline.” 

She arrived at Charlottesville one day before the 
convention and stopped with an old friend of her 
mother’s. There were other delegates there also. She 
changed her dress and went down to the veranda, where 
it was cooler. She found there Mr. Moninger, an old 
Bethany schoolmate. His sweetheart, Grace, roomed with 
her while at Bethany. 

“Well, Miss Lee! I’m so glad to see you.” 

“I certainly am surprised in seeing you, too.” 

“I was just starting to the University to hear a fine 
lecture. Would you like to go this morning? In other 
words, will you be my 'biz’ as you sometimes were at 
Bethany?” said he laughing. 

“Thank you, I would enjoy going very much,” she 
replied, knowing Leigh would not arrive until next day, 
and it would pass the time pleasantly. They were soon 


74 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


sitting in one of the deep windows, as it was early, in an 
interested conversation about this student and that, when 
Evangeline glanced around just in time to see a young 
man in the crowd below, who appeared to have been 
looking at them, turn quickly and walk away. 

‘ ‘ What is it, Miss Lee ? ’ ’ asked Moninger. 

“ Oh ! nothing, ’ ’ and she went on talking. 

As they came back, Moninger said, 

“I will have to go early in the morning, and will be 
out of town all this afternoon, but will be back for the 
evening lecture. May I not have your company again 
tonight ? ’ ’ 

“Thank you, I will enjoy going.” 

In the latter part of the afternoon she went uptown 
to do some shopping, and to her great amazement met 
Leon on the street. His greeting was formal, which was 
unusual with him. 

“You wrote that you would not be here until 
tomorrow,” said she. 

“I thought so then, but got away a day earlier than 
I expected. May I walk with you to the corner?” 

“Certainly. Then you are going to the lecture 
tonight?” asked she anxiously. 

“No, I did not know it in time and have promised a 
friend who lives in the country, to be with him tonight; 
but I will be in town for the convention. ’ ’ 

“You would enjoy being at the University, I am sure. 
’Twas fine this morning.” 

“Better than K. U.’s?” said he teasingly, looking 
down at her; and he was quite himself again. So they 
talked on until they reached the corner. 

It would not be pleasant to him, perhaps, to tell him 
she had an engagement for the evening; therefore, she 
did not mention Herbert Moninger, but would tell him 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


75 


tomorrow that a Bethany friend, passing through, took 
her to both lectures. Thinking of this she said, 

“I am very sorry that I did not know you would be 
in Charlottesville today.” 

Leon thought he had never heard her speak with 
sweeter expression. “I’m sorry, too, Miss Lee. How 
did you leave all at home?” 

“Quite well. I had just received your letter and 
was reading it when uncle Isom came to take me to the 
station.” 

“Of course you did not have time to answer it; 
therefore, I can not yet flatter myself that I may have 
your company during convention even.” 

“I would have answered the letter in the affirmative, 
and I have not changed my mind.” 

‘ ‘ Thank you. What is the number of the residence ? ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ See the dark green house yonder with white 
trimmings ? ’ ’ 

“Yes.” 

“The number is two-twenty-eight.” 

“Thank you. Then I’ll see you on the morrow. 
Good afternoon,” and lifting his hat he was gone. And 
going took the brightness from the place. 

When she came downstairs that evening and she and 
Moaanger started, they met a darkey boy at the gate. 

‘ ‘ Is dis Miss Lee ? ’ ’ said he. 

“Yes.” 

“Hyah’s uh note fuh yo’.” 

By the street lamp she read, 

“I have decided to stay in town and attend the 

lecture. May I have your company ? 

‘ ‘ Hastily, 

“Leolaine Leigh.” 


76 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


“Mr. Moninger, wait a few moments, please. I must 
answer this note,” and she ran to her room. Love tugged 
at her heart. 

“What must I do? What can I do? If Leon wished 
to be my escort, why did he not ask me when we parted 
at the corner? Then I could have arranged it with 
Mr. Moninger without hurting his feelings.” These 
questions she asked herself in her hurry and confusion 
to know what to do. She had never been unladylike in 
breaking an engagement. Two or three notes she wrote, 
only to tear them up. “I must not keep the young man 
at the gate waiting any longer. ’Tis late now. I’ll see 
the owner of this note tomorrow and explain—tell him 
all about it.” How she hated to deny him; but hardly 
knowing what she wrote, she gave the darky this note: 

“Dear Mr. Leigh: 

“I am very, very sorry, but I have another engage¬ 
ment for tonight. 

“In haste, 

“Margaret E. Lee.” 

When she and her escort entered the auditorium, all 
the seats were taken, so they quietly sought their window 
again. While the band played, he told her that he and 
Grace were to be married in the next month, and showed 
her the diamond wedding ring. 

‘ ‘ Let me try it on your finger. May I ? ” said he, and 
he placed it on without touching her finger. She put up 
her hand into the light and watched it sparkle. 

“ ’Tis a very pretty one. Grace will like it I am sure. 
My congratulations to you both.” 

“Thank you. Ladies like rings. You may wear it 
until the lecture is over so I can see how pretty it is.” 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


77 


“How nice!” The music ceased and the speaker 
arose. Yet she heard him not, for it was the first time 
she had had a minute to devote to her own thoughts since 
receiving Leon’s note, and she was lost in them. 

“I wonder if ’twas he this morning in the crowd 
below, looking at me? Why did he walk away so 
quickly? Was that why he was so distant when we first 
met on the street? If he was standing outside tonight, 
he saw this ring put on my finger. What would he 
think? What did I say to him this afternoon? Yes, 
I said three times something about him enjoying 
tonight here. Will he, did he take that in the 
light that I nearly asked him three times to go and 
take me? And then refused when asked? Why are 
there different meanings to the very same words when 
looked at in another light ? Oh! Leon, I did not intend 
to hurt you. I thought you would understand. Why do 
things happen this way? I’ll see him. I will tell him 
all.” Thus her thoughts ran. 

Next morning she went with some ladies to the con¬ 
vention. She saw him some distance from her, but he 
did not come where she was. When the afternoon service 
was over, he asked to walk home with her, but was 
reserved, changed, and hurt, yet tried not to show it. 
They were in a crowd all the way home; therefore, she 
did not attempt to explain, for she wanted them to be 
alone. 

When they reached the house, they were at once 
ushered into the dining hall, where refreshments were 
served. Afterward the hostess had an entertainment in 
the parlor for all her guests and their visitors; and it 
would have been impolite to have left the room. Their 
conversation had to be general. So the hours went by 
and the time for departure arrived. 


78 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


‘‘Goodnight, Miss Lee, I have had a pleasant 
evening,” said Leigh coldly and formally and was gone. 
Others were talking in the doorway leading to the 
veranda and Evangeline was left alone in the parlor. 

“He must not leave thus,” thought she. 

One of the ministers stopped Leigh at the gate for a 
few words. She sent one of the little girls of the house 
to say to Leon that she wished to speak to him in the 
parlor a few moments. She was sitting at the piano 
playing when he came in. He went to the piano and 
leaning one arm on it waited for her to speak. As she 
spoke to him, she still played to keep others in the hall¬ 
way from hearing what they would say. 

‘ ‘ Mr. Leigh, I feel that I owe you more of an apology 
than that note I wrote. I—” 

“Miss Lee, I do not want to falsely impress you. I 
can never be more than a friend.” His voice was husky, 
and he spoke slowly. 

Dumb with amazement, she looked at him in con¬ 
sternation. She tried to form words to speak, to explain 
herself, but utterly failed. She longed to fly away. 
She arose and said with difficulty, 

“I bid you goodnight.” But try as she would, her 
voice trembled. Stepping quickly to her side he held out 
his hand. 

“But we will always be friends, and you will still 
write to me, ivon’t you?” said he pleadingly. 

“Perhaps—I—I—” and she was gone to her room, 
leaving him alone in the parlor. 

Locking her door she asked herself many questions. 
“Why did he not let me finish before he spoke those 
words? Impolite to say the very least. Why did he 
speak them at all? I had not proposed to him that he 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


79 


should speak thus, neither did I intend to refer to any¬ 
thing of that kind. He had seemed hurt and I wished 
for him to understand that the many little things that 
had happened to provoke had not been done intentionally 

at all. That was all. That was due any friend. Per- 

• 

haps he had some good reason for saying what he did, 
and was going to explain when I left him so suddenly. 
I could not stay there. Perhaps it was he loves another 
girl. If so, he has a perfect right to love her; and if he 
is the man I think him to be, he will be true to his own 
heart. I will admire him for it, even if it is another girl. 
What a mystery it all is!” 

Thus she wondered to herself in her snow-white bed 
near the window, with her head pillowed upon her arm, 
looking off into the moonlight. The faraway sweetness 
of the students’ guitars on the campus did not have the 
power to lull her to slumberland as it had done the night 
before. With the dawning of the morning she tele¬ 
graphed Maudrey to meet her and was on her way to 
Washington. 


CHAPTER XY 


“O the wasted hours of life 
That have drifted by! 

0 the good that might have been, 

Lost, without a sigh.” 

Mrs. Legend, Evangeline’s aunt Celeste, was a born 
society woman and worshiped everything connected with 
the fashionable clique. She had insisted on Evangeline’s 
coming, because the society world would be drawn to her 
home more than ever to see her modest Southern niece. 
What handsome, full-dress evening gowns she would see 
that she had made. What a stir she would create! She 
had already planned a grand reception for the purpose 
of introducing her into society. Evangeline’s unaffected, 
sister-like devotion to Maudrey would make him so 
popular among the girls, too, she thought, for genuine 
affection is always attractive, but not much found in the 
world in which she moved. 

Evangeline was delighted to go to the city that she 
loved even before she had seen it. She was anxious to 
come in contact with the fashionable life of the city, too, 
something entirely new to her; but she had a different 
motive from that of her aunt. She wanted to study the 
lives of those people; to know their cultured homes, their 
usefulness to humanity, their interesting accounts of 
trips abroad, and to know if they were happier than any 
other. She had always thought so. They had every 
advantage to be anything they wished to be. 

She was simply captivated at first. Maudrey went 
with her to the Smithsonian, the Corcoran Art Gallery, 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


81 


the War Department, the Capitol, the White House, the 
monument, the Congressional Library—everything of 
interest. And she was happy in her school work. There 
were receptions at the White House, the cabinet mem¬ 
bers’ homes, and at the legations, and afternoon teas, 
dinners, luncheons, and evenings at concerts. 

The glory, pomp, and grandeur intoxicated her. 
There can scarcely ever be, in the experience of a human 
being, a time of such carefree enjoyment as comes to a 
young girl when, after a life of seclusion, she spends 
such a winter in Washington. Maudrey coaxed her to 
dance, but she would not. 

“Why, Evangeline, half the gallants, old and young, 
are crazy to dance with you.” 

“Maudrey, I could dance and it never hurt me.” 

“Well, come on then and let me teach you.” 

“What would my Sunday school think of me, whom 
they follow as an example!” 

“Bother the Sunday school. They will never know 
any way. ’ ’ 

“I will not deceive them. They may not be as strong 
to resist temptation as I am in that line, and you know 
we are our brothers ’ keepers. I heard one girl make all 
kinds of fun of being immersed. She said it was 
immodest. That night at the ball her dress came very 
near having no bodice at all, as well as no sleeves, and 
the way she rested her head and arms on the gentlemen’s 
shoulders, I thought if I must be immodest, let me bear 
it for the Christ.” 

“I do not have much respect for those girls, myself. 
Your dresses are modesty and sweetness personified, and 
then, if you wish, you need not dance with any except 
me, your cousin, and that would nearly kill the boys.” 


82 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


This was the real secret. Maudrey knew that 
Evangeline’s naturally graceful air would make her a 
fine dancer. He knew, too, her sincere, pure life 
attracted men, and he would be the lucky, envied man, 
because her cousin. He was proud of her and wanted 
her to become a star in society, but she remained firm. 
Four things she would not do—dance, play cards, drink 
wines, or wear low-necked dresses; yet hers were of 
elegant material, well made, and worn by such a lady¬ 
like being that it was all the adornment needed, and even 
society pronounced her “perfectly well-bred.” 

He got her to the theatre to see the ‘ 4 Old Homestead, ’’ 
‘‘The Christian,” “The Sign of the Cross,” and a few 
others as good, but aside from these she would not go. 

When first she went to church at St.-, the minister 

greatly interested her. A night or two afterward 
Maudrey took her to a fair held for this church. There 
was an hour of cards, in which they played for money, 
and the rest of the evening was devoted to dancing. 
Each gentleman paid so much for the privilege of danc¬ 
ing all evening and everything made went to keep up 
St.-. 

“They do so much for the poor, too,” said one 
elegantly dressed lady to another. “There are two 
charity whist clubs, besides cribbage, in which they 
play for prizes in money and every bit goes to the poor, 
except what is spent for refreshments.” 

(The refreshments were spiked, too.) 

Evangeline was just pondering which got the best 
bargain—the poor, the wealthy, or Satan—when she saw 
the minister himself begin to play for them to dance. 
The next Sunday as she sat in the gallery of the church, 
she watched the pews below fill with extravagantly 





Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


83 


dressed men and women whose silks rustled as they 
knelt—the picture of worship and devotion—with bowed 
heads on white-gloved hands warm from shuffling whist 
cards late the night before; and their lips repeated 
prayers—strong they must have been as they wafted 
upward with the breath of “spiking” so lately sipped. 
But then she remembered ’twas a sacrifice for the poor 
and looked around to see the sad faces of some of the 
needy ones when, behold! there were none there, not even 
a gallery for them: the pews were all rented. Evangeline 
decided that that church believed in the aesthetic and 
form more than worship. Her church with its free pews 
and statesmanlike pastor—Brother Power, an old 
Bethany student—was more like home, though she found 
many good ones in her visits to the churches throughout 
the city. 

At the White House public receptions Evangeline 
loved most to watch the different nationalities. Looking 
from the window of the East Room she could see them 
lined up as far as the eye could reach in the order of 
their social rank. There were more to be received on 
New Year’s day than any other. When little Marie 
Peary saw Evangeline in the Blue Room, she threw both 
arms around her, saying, 

“I wish you all the Happy New Years that is because 
I love you so at my kindergarten.” 

As the child released her, she saw the keen eyes of a 
most handsome officer soften as he took in the scene with 
admiration. She took refuge behind the palms again 
and he passed on. She could not hear the name as 
Lieutenant Latimer presented him to the ladies in the 
receiving line. As Maudrey passed with some college 
boys, he hurriedly placed a note in her hand. 


84 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


“Get off as soon as you can. I’ll wait for you in the 
East Room. Some nice fellows want to meet you, and a 
party of them and some young ladies are going with us 
to the top of the monument to see the city white with 
snow; also for a spin in an auto. 

“Maudrey.” 

When she entered the East Room, foreigners, senators, 
and soldiers were not in line, but roaming everywhere. 
Near one window she found Maudrey and his party. 
Just as she was meeting them, she caught a glimpse of the 
handsome officer standing at an opposite window with 
folded arms, eyeing them, nor did he change his position 
until after they had departed, a happy crowd of young 
folks. 

“Has the postman been here, uncle Ed?” asked 
Evangeline as she rushed in from her ride that afternoon 
and placed her cold fingers on his cheeks from the back 
of his chair. 

“Yes, sir, and brought my girl three fat letters and 
a nice package,” and he handed them to her. 

“Oh! how good! One from home, one from Muriel, 
and—” 

“One from the Parson,” finished Maudrey as he 
joined her in the big window-seat. “Let me untie the 
package while you read your letters ? ’ ’ and he proceeded 
to do so. 

“Oh, you bad boy, what have you there?” suddenly 
coming to her right mind from the depths of the many 
sheets of paper she held in her fingers. 

“A lovely volume of ‘Paradise Lost’ and the Parson’s 
card. Say, cousin, I did not know he ever lost you. ’ ’ 

“Never mind, we will read his letters from his girls 
to pay back,” said her uncle as she gathered book and 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


85 


all and went upstairs. When she had first reached 
Washington, she had a long letter from Leigh, which 
read in part, 

‘ ‘ Dear Miss Lee: 

‘“To err is human, to forgive divine;’ therefore, 
while I can never be more than a friend, please forgive 
me if I have in any way been at fault; and let us be the 
good friends we used to be and write to each other in the 
same old w~ay. 

“L. Leigh.” 

Again that haunting clause, “I can never be more 
than a friend.” She wished he had not asked her to 
write, for she liked him and would have to guard herself 
to keep from showing it, but was afraid, too, if she 
refused to write, he would think she did love him and 
would consider it a lover’s quarrel. She made her letters 
exceedingly formal to hide her heart, and told a great 
deal about Washington and the many interesting things 
there. She had promised to write only occasionally. He 
praised her letters, especially one which he said he was 
going to keep always, so that when he visited Washington 
he would have it for reference. He wrote promptly and 
most interesting letters. She enjoyed the last one very 
much and also the pretty book. “Did that title, ‘Para¬ 
dise Lost,’ bring a message as did the flowers at Christ¬ 
mas, which Maudrey had suggested?” 

At the butler’s summons she went down to six o’clock 
dinner. 

‘ ‘ My! you look like an angel that had never been 
lost, ’ ’ whispered Maudrey as he escorted her to the table. 

The catch of the season was a certain Captain Gill, 
who was also a surgeon. He had won distinction in the 


86 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


Spanish-American war and was home on a furlough, 
being wounded in the side. He was tall and handsome 
and his uniform fit him perfectly. A soldier has the 
appearance of all things manly and noble. He was 
flattered, complimented, and toasted by society’s mamas 
and papas. Each belle was delighted when he offered 
his arm for a waltz or two-step. ’Twas amusing to watch 
them claim his attention. 

There was an alcove partly curtained from the rest 
of the ballroom, where Evangeline found refuge with 
some older ladies when Maudrey would have her go to 
look on. New Year’s evening as she sat there, she heard 
one belle say to another, 

“My first waltz is with Captain Gill tonight,” and 
following her eyes Evangeline recognized in him the 
officer that she had seen at the White House reception. 
The girl continued, “I must learn to look into his eyes 
as if I adored him, whereas I only calculate to what 
extent I can count on him for flowers and candy. ’ ’ 

The other one said, “You are a perfect coquette. Did 
you ever have a man propose to you ? ’ ’ 

“Yes, lots of them, but not a rich enough one as yet. 
The first was a clergyman. He thought I was so lovely 
that I must be more than willing to give my life to the 
poor and my love to him. He gave me the most 
exquisite prayerbook in ivory and gold with my mono¬ 
gram in pearls upon the back. It was very convenient 
for Lent, because I made a wonderful picture by kneeling 
in the church holding that beautiful book near my lips 
so that the gold in my hair and the jewels flashing from 
it seemed the only things human about me.” 

As the two debutantes whirled away in the dance, 
Evangeline thought, “How cheap, so cheap do they 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


87 


count the love of one’s soul.” The next she saw of the 
two they had cornered the Captain, and each claimed him 
for a dance. She turned her face from the ball-room 
and was in an interesting conversation with one of the 
ladies, when someone touched her on the shoulder. ’Twas 
Maudrey by her side and he was saying, 

“Captain Gill, my cousin, Miss Lee.” 

“I am pleased to meet you, Miss Lee. I believe you 
were at the White House reception this morning. I never 
forget a face.” 

A few moments of pleasant words and some one 
claimed him for a waltz. As they went home that night, 
Maudrey said, 

“That Captain would not rest until he had met you.” 

One evening not long after she sat in the same alcove 
and when the dance was well under way, she heard 
many say, 

“I wonder where is Captain Gill?” 

Very soon he entered, and as looking over a field for 
battle, one glance of his eye took in the entire room. 
After a dance or two he drew the curtain of the alcove 
aside and said with a profound bow, 

“Ladies, pardon the intrusion, but I would like to 

rest.” 

“Certainly,” and there was a general stir to make 
him comfortable. Evangeline alone sat still. 

“Thank you, but I will sit here where I can watch 
the dance,” and he placed a chair by her. Soon he 
began a most interesting account of his stay in the 
Philippines and Cuba. Many came to indirectly ask him 
to dance, but he did not care to dance that evening— 
his side was hurting; putting his hand to it, she noticed, 
only until they were gone. This he did every time she 


88 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


came to the dances, until she would not go any more. 
She found from Maudrey that he did not frequent the 
alcove when she was not there. 

“Say, cousin, that soldier’s side is hurting sure 
enough, not from a wound gotten at Santiago, but from 
Cupid’s darts about the heart. What did you do to 
make him so in love? The girls are morbidly jealous.” 

“I did nothing, Maudrey. He is rather handsome, 
interesting to talk to, and always a perfect gentleman; 
but there is something that I do not like about him, and 
I hardly know what it is.” 

“Well, you won’t get rid of him by staying away 
from dances. See here! ’ ’ and he placed in her hands a 
box of sweet violets with a card, “Compliments of 
Capt. Gill.” Then there came elegant boxes of candy, 
notes to take her to concerts, balls, and theatres, but she 
did not accept. Wherever she went and he was there, 
he was with her before she knew it. She was very formal 
to him always, but he was the more attentive. 

‘ ‘ ’Tis the problem of the mamas, cousin, how the catch 
of the season slipped through their society girls’ fingers, 
and was caught by you hidden away in that corner. He 
is visiting one of the most wealthy homes in this city and 
must be very wealthy himself, because he showed me 
some beautiful views of his historic home on the 
Hudson. ’ ’ 

“Perhaps, Maudrey, ’tis because I do not want him,” 
she answered quietly. 

“That’s just it. He knows you have a heart, which 
they have not, and you do not try to win him at all,” 
proudly suggested Maudrey. 


CHAPTER XVI 

“All sins have blue eyes and dimples when they are young.” 

Softly fell the snow on the pavement already white. 
In the muffled hush that it brings sounded the merry 
whistle of the postman as he went back and forth across 
the street from house to house carrying joy for some and 
sadness for others. At a window of one of the most 
beautiful homes on that street sat Evangeline, awaiting 
his coming too. 

What nice letters she always received on that day. 
She had thought a great deal over “Paradise Lost” and 
the letter that came with it, but her answer to it had 
been only pleasant bits of news and thanks for the book. 
A dozen nice letters had she received and answered since 
then. At the sound of the postman’s ring down she 
went. He was holding up a delicately tinted envelope. 
In her room she sat looking at the pretty address, and 
wondering what this bit of sealed paper held for her. 
But after severing the seal she was surprised to read, 

‘ ‘ Dear Miss Lee: 

“I will have to ask that we stop writing for a week 
or two. Excuse haste.” 

“L. Leigh.” 

Quick as a flash came the old haunting scene before 
her of him leaning on the piano saying, “I do not want 
to falsely impress you. I can never be more than a 
friend.” Why had he asked her to write and then to 
stop? If he was sick and could not write, why did he 


90 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


not say so. “Was there anything in my letters to 
offend?” she mused. “No, not anything. Strange, 
strange indeed he is, ’ ’ she said with a sigh. 

Six weeks later she and Maudrey were reading in the 
library. He noticed she kept her book in her lap and 
gazed dreamily out of the window most of the time. 
Presently she said, 

‘ ‘ Maudrey ? ’ ’ 

“Yes, cousin.” 

“Let’s go over in Virginia this afternoon, to 
Arlington. It looks so much like home. ’ ’ 

“Are you homesick, cousin?” asked he, laying down 
his book. He wanted to ask another question, for she 
had not seemed happy for two or three weeks, but he 
thought if she wanted to tell him she would. 

“Well, not homesick exactly, but I would love to go.” 

“I’m at your service. Where shall I find you this 
afternoon ? ’ ’ 

“At the charity kindergarten. Miss Uila Pollock is 
going to take four of us there for an hour, but I will be 
ready at two o’clock.” 

Promptly at that hour he arrived. She had become 
interested in telling the children a story while she 
cut out paper dolls for them, when the matron opened 
the door and ushered him in, dressed as if he had stepped 
from a bandbox, holding his gloves in his hand, amused 
at the scene before him—little cross-eyed Jews, bow- 
legged Dutchmen, ugly young Irishmen, and one-sided 
deformed ones with poverty-pinched faces completely 
surrounded her. 

“Come, cousin, we will miss our car,” coughing to 
conquer a laugh. As soon as they were on the street, 
she said, 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


91 


“Why, Maudrey, our car does not leave for ten 
minutes.” 

“I know, but it would take that or a fire in the city 
to move you from those precious scraps of humanity. 
How many more homes for the decrepit and infirm do 
you have to visit before we can be off ? ’ ’ 

“No more, sir.” 

“I was afraid you wanted me to chaperon that 
‘mixture’ over to Arlington and I got amused at the 
picture we would make with them at our heels. ’ ’ 

As they drew near the mansion, she said, “The last 
time we were here was the day three hundred and thirty- 
six soldiers from Cuba were buried. Do you remember?” 

“Yes, cousin, but Captain Gill was not buried that 
day,” replied he mischievously, watching her closely and 
seeing ’twas not the Captain that worried her, for she 
only remarked, 

“Which of the old Virginia homes of history is the 
prettiest, Arlington, Mt. Vernon, or Monticello?” 

“Monticello is the prettiest, but I like Arlington 
best because of the relationship.” 

“But Leeland is loveliest and best.” 

“To be sure it is dearer, because of the associations, 
and in many ways handsomer than the three mentioned. ’ ’ 

Through the mansion, out among the soldiers, and 
over to see the cavalry drill they went and home again. 
When he had helped her off, he took the next car for 
downtown, and She went into the library to her dreaming 
again. When night was beginning to draw its curtains 
about her, she heard him in the hall say to the butler, 

“Where is Miss Evangeline?” 

“Here, Maudrey.” 

After drawing a chair by hers he said, “What’s the 
matter, cousin?” 


92 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


“Like a little girl at home once said, I have the ‘blue 
ones, ’ I suppose, Maudrey. She meant ‘ the blues . 9 ’ ’ 

“No wonder. After that inspiring scene at the 
charity kindergarten. I should think you would. I 
have something for you to take away the memory of 
those faces , 99 and he stepped into the hallway to bring 
and place in her lap a half dozen American Beauties. 

“Oh! thank you. Did you go back downtown for 
these? How good of you,” burying her face in their 
sweet, fresh depths. “There is nothing I had rather 
have had than these. Dear, fragrant beauties.” 

“Then I’m glad I’ve hit it, cousin. By the way, this 
is the night of the biggest dinner and dance of the winter 
and about the last. You will go with me, won’t you? 
You have not gone for a long time, and you will not be 
here much longer to go with me. Run upstairs and 
dress and go to please me. Do, that’s a good girl.” 

She hesitated, then said, 

“I owe it to you for these flowers, and for going with 
me this afternoon. I will go.” 

Thirty minutes later she came down ready. 

“Gee whiz, cousin, but you are beautiful tonight! 
That’s a brand new gown, hain’t it?” and his eyes 
beamed with admiration. 

“Yes, ’tis new. I christen it tonight.” 

“You know how to dress, cousin, ’tis so aristocratic. 
I do like it.” 

She ivas beautiful. The gown was of blue-black 
velvet, elegant and rich, made a plain princess with a 
long train, just low enough in the neck to reveal the 
depression in her throat. There was a collar of cream 
point-lace. Her hair was done low with a black velvet 
butterfly bow pinned in place with a star and crescent. 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


93 


She wore a necklace around her throat and no other 
ornaments except the dark red roses in her hand. There 
was a sweet maidenliness about her, and an innocence of 
nature that no one could describe, yet was an uplifting, 
ennobling influence wherever she went. 

The black dress and the roses reminded her of a 
Christmas a little over a year ago and made her happy. 

The dinner was at one of the most fashionable homes 
in the city, and the dance at one of the great halls down¬ 
town. 

“Stay with me, or near me tonight, won’t you, 
especially at leaving?” she said as they went in. 

“That I will. Captain Gill shan’t propose tonight,” 
he answered, guessing her meaning. 

At the dinner she was surprised to see how much 
champagne the ladies drank and thought it no wonder 
they had sick-headache the next day. She would not 
touch hers, though she never drew attention to it. Her 
aunt chided her severely for thus insulting her hostess 
in not partaking of everything set before her. 

“Champagne has the same effect when taken in a 
handsome home as in a bar-room, and the hostess first 
insults true ladies in setting it before them; and encour¬ 
ages young men to drunkenness,” was her quiet answer. 

When they were first seated at the table, bottles of 
wine sat by the host who, it was known, drank more than 
even society overlooked. There was a cry of delight 
from a beautiful tiny boy with long golden curls blowing 
back as he ran from his nurse into the dining hall. He 
ran to Evangeline who was at the corner. She put her 
arm around him and a look of admiration at the picture 
came from all the guests. 

“Pity ’oman, pity ’oses, pity ’oman, baby ubbs oo 
mucky,” and he looked up at her with his big blue eyes. 


94 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


“How we wish we had the freedom of speech and 
rights you possess, young man/’ said Captain Gill, who 
sat by Evangeline’s side, caring no more for the laughter 
that followed than he did for the bullets flying about him 
when in Cuba. 

To hide the roses blooming in her cheeks she leaned 
over and pinned a rose among the billowy laces of the 
little fellow’s snow-white slumber-robe. Just then he 
reached up his baby hands to the bottles, saying, 

“Baby vants. Me ubbs vine.” 

“No, no, son. You are too young,” said the father, 
but the mother said, 

“You shall have some,” and turned a tiny glass to 
his lips as the nurse came for him. 

When it came time for the toasts, Captain Gill’s was, 
“To the pretty roses,” comparing them to maidenhood 
and womanhood. Then followed the ball. Evangeline 
endured it in silence. She was tired of the hollow 
emptiness of it all—the silly, nonsensical talk; the whirl, 
whirl, whirl of the dance; the evening-suits of the men 
all alike, until a workman in overalls would have given 
some variety. 

Maudrey, true to his promise, stayed near her; though 
the Captain stayed near, too, and showed plainly that 
he did not want a third person. 

“May I see you to the car, Miss Lee?” he said when 
’twas over. She could not very well refuse. ’Twas 
rather a warm night and taking her long evening coat 
on his arm they started down the long flight of steps 
that led to the cars lined up along the street. The ball 
room front blazed with light as the men in evening dress, 
women in full ball toilette, and leaders of the German 
poured out laughing and chattering. A young man 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


95 


coming up the street just then drew aside to let them 
pass, each gay couple in turn giving him a rapid and 
indifferent glance; until a soldier in full uniform and a 
beautiful figure in black came to an abrupt stop, the 
lady exclaiming, 

“Oh! Mr.— ” and then seemed bewildered as the 
young man on the street drew apart into the darkness. 

“Pray, what frightened you, Miss Lee? Do you not 
know that I would protect you, should it take my whole 
regiment?” said her escort, placing one hand on his 
sword that glistened in the light, and with the other 
drawing her arm closer to him. The man who stood 
aside saw him give a defiant look that way. Captain 
Gill helped her into the car and lingered long in saying 
goodbye. 

When they reached home, Mrs. Legend went on 
upstairs, but Evangeline paused at the foot of the 
staircase, saying, 

“Maudrey, please get me a glass of water.” When 
he handed her the glass, he exclaimed, 

“Why, cousin, what’s the matter? You look so pale. 
Are you ill?” 

“No, I’m not ill.” 

“Has that confounded soldier been proposing?” 

“No, I thought—I—thought I—saw—Mr. Leigh.” 

“Where?” 

“On the street by the ball room.” 

“Well, well, a parson at a ball! A soldier is enough. 
Mother and I were just behind you and I never saw 
any one. Is it so bad as all that, little cousin, that you 
imagine you see him even at a ball?” and he took her 
arm to ascend. When he said goodnight at the head of 
the stairs, he added, 


96 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


“ Thank you for going tonight. I thought it would 
cheer up up, but I believe it has given you an extra 
amount of the ‘blue ones.’ Sleep and rest and I will go 
anywhere you want me to go tomorrow—even back to 
the charity kindergarten to cut out paper-dolls.” When 
he had retired, he thought to himself, 

“So it’s Leigh that’s leaning heavy on her heart. I 
can see no reason he should think he had lost ‘ Paradise. ’ 
If she needs me to shake him right well, I’m her man. 
I’ll just keep my eyes open and my thinking-cap on 
unless she ventures to tell me of her own accord,” and 
he was off to slumberland. 

But before she closed her eyes in sleep that night, she 
promised herself that that was her last ball. First, she 
was disgusted with it all, second, she felt it was as bad 
to attend as to dance. “Was it Leon? Why was he in 
Washington? What would he think of me? I had not 
been dancing, neither did I enjoy being there; but he 
will not understand all this.” With a heavy heart she 
fell asleep. 


CHAPTER XVII 


“In a little rosewood casket 
That is resting on the stand 
Is a package of old letters 
Written by a lover’s hand.” 

’Twas ten o’clock. All were in dreamland at Leeland 
save in Evangeline’s room. There in a low rocker sat 
Mammy, and at her feet Evangeline on a footstool. Near 
her on the floor was a package of old letters, unassuming 
sheets of tinted paper, yet how they had gladdened her 
heart in days of yore even as they saddened it now. 

“Undo my hair, Mammy, and brush it softly, as only 
you know how. My head is so tired inside.” 

“Yas, honey, dat I will. Humph! how beau’ful hit 
is,” and she brushed out the long, long strands. Evange¬ 
line with her hands clasped about one knee sat looking 
into the fire Mammy had kindled to take away the 
dampness. 

“Oh! Mammy, Mammy, if you only knew how my 
poor heart aches!” 

“Honey, I wouldn’t wurry muh sweet haid obali dat 
Yankee sol’ier. Dem Yankees ain’ nuffin nohow, dey 
ain’.” 

“Mammy, I love but one. I have never told any one, 
but I’m going to tell you, if you will cross your heart 
you will never tell.” 

“Nevvah while de uth stan’s, honey chile.” 

“Leolaine Leigh.” 

“Bless de Lo’d! hit ain’ dat Yankee,” said Mammy 
in an amen tone. 


98 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


“I never knew that I loved him until the last month 
or two. I had always admired his noble character, but 
now I know that I love him.” 

The ideal which all women look for, cherish, and too 
often think they have found when love glorifies a mortal 
man is hard to give up; especially when it comes in the 
likeness of the first lover who touches a young girl’s 
heart. 

“De lub’s in hes purty eyes fo’ yo’, honey chile.” 

“No, Mammy.” 

“Yo’ dis blin’, honey.” 

“So I have been, thinking he loved me, when now 
at last I see he does not. If I could only make my own 
foolish heart forget. In his last letter he wrote that he 
would have to ask that we stop writing for a week or two. 
I did not mind, for I thought he was sick. But I have 
learned from a friend of mine, indirectly, that he was 
sick only a few days. It has been sixteen weeks since 
then, and he has never written. A few weeks after his 
last letter I am nearly sure that I saw him by a ballroom 
before I left Washington, and he saw me and he never 
spoke, nor did he come around to see me. 

“How should I interpret this, except in one way? 
That he does not love me, and sought in that way to 
break up our friendship. It would have been more 
gentlemanly in him to have written, ‘Let us not write 
any more,’ than to leave the impression that he would 
write soon, a week or so, and never intend to do it. Yet, 
Mammy, stranger than all else, this experience has 
revealed to me the secret that I love him , yes, better than 
all else in the world, but I’ll give my life’s blood before 
he shall ever know. A man must love me with his own 
free will, as he loves no other mortal on earth. His 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


99 


letters I’ll send hack, but I’ll keep the books in memory 
of the old days. Here they all are, even to the little 
notes—faded violets in one, forget-me-nots in another.” 

“ ’Pears lak I ken see hes beau*ful eyes lookin’ fo’m 
ebah lettah on de flo.” 

“Oh! Mammy, don’t,” said she, resting her head on 
the lap that had been her refuge since a child, when 
Mammy used to mend “Cock Robin” and other stories. 
Now she knew how it hurt when an arrow pierced her 
heart and longed for it to be mended as of yore. 

“Dab, lil chile, lit lam’. He’ll come sum day, dat 
he will, an’ not jes’ hes eyes, but hes mouf will tell yo’ 
hes lub. Mammy knows.” 

“But a lady with any honor can’t keep the letters.” 
Into a violet-scented box she placed them one by one, the 
last one on top and tied them with ribbon. Going to her 
desk she wrote note after note, only to tear them up. 
One seemed to satisfy her, but it was full of tear-stains. 
At last it was only this, “If you have any of mine, 
please send them to me.” 

No beginning or address and no name was signed. 
She could not trust herself to write more. Putting it on 
top she slowly placed on the lid and resting her arms on 
the box and her hot head on her arms she seemed to be 
asleep. 

In her dreams that night she was gathering cherries 
when a knight rode up with his face toward the stars. 
Then she was tying brideroses with black ribbon. A 
cardinal flitted about with bits of a torn letter for its 
nest. 


> > * 


CHAPTER XVIII 


“Wait not till tomorrow’s sun 
Beams upon thy way. 

All that thou canst call thine own 
Lies in thy ‘today’.” 

Evangeline came out and sat upon the great stone 
steps of the veranda to watch Mammy trimming up 
the honeysuckles growing around the columns, and to 
drink in the morning freshness. 

“Honey, yo’ sho is gwina git uh lettah befo’ bury 
long. Jist yo’ watch whut I tells yo’, fuh me nose’s been 
uh-eechin’ all dis blessed mawnin’.” 

“I fohgot I brings de mail,” said uncle Isom, “An’ 
here’s uh lettah fo’ yo’.” 

“Now maybe muh nose will let me ’lone fuh uh 
while,” and Mammy looked relieved. 

Evangeline noticed the Kentucky postmark. She 
had been expecting an express package of old letters 
with, perhaps, a few last words from Mr. Leigh and 
longed to have it over, but this was a surprise—the same 
delicately-tinted, sweet-scented envelope and the same 
pretty address. “Like the swell of some sweet tune” 
hope illuminated her soul. She sat looking at it, hating 
to break the seal. “Then he loves me and is not going 
to send my letters back. He writes to explain at last. 
Wonder where he has been all this while?” 

Slowly she opened it and read, 

“Dear Miss Lee: 

“The letters you returned to me received. I 
destroyed yours, if I remember correctly, just before I 
left school at Lexington. I supposed you had no desire 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


101 


for them. I beg pardon for not returning them to you. 

“I am in evangelistic work and have with me a 
Japanese lecturer, educated at Lexington, who is very 

fine and interesting. He will lecture in C-, October 

the first. If you so desire, he will lecture at Bethany, 
your church, also. Would you care to hear him? If so, 
let us know in a few days. If we find that we can not 

stop at Bethany, I hope you will come to C- and 

hear him there. 

“Very truly your friend, 

“Leolaine Leigh.” 

She sat wondering at what he had written. “He 
never even mentioned why he quit writing to me, or the 
time that had intervened. Our friendship was of so 
little importance he had even forgotten, exactly, when 
he burned my letters. 

“Why does he want me to hear that Japanese? He 
is nothing to me. One thing is evident, Leon Leigh cares 
nothing whatever for me, and wants to show me by his 
indifference, as well as his words, that he does not. 
Would I could throw away as easily my love for him. 
Leon, you shall never have another chance to explain. 
First, because I gave you opportunity and you took no 
advantage of it; second, if you want to see me at all, 
you have not gentlemanly courage enough to say, ‘Miss 
Lee, I want to stop with the lecturer and talk with you 
a little’; instead, if I see correctly, he wants to see me 
with the excuse of the lecturer; third, because I love him 
and I can not help but show that I do, if he gets to 
talking about it, and now that I know from his letter he 
loves me not, he shall not mention it in my presence. 
If I suffer, he shall never know.” 




102 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


doing to her desk upstairs she wrote to the pastor 

at C-, who was also her pastor at Bethany, to say to 

the lecturer and Mr. Leigh, when he wrote, that he need 
not stop at Bethany, as most of the members would 

come to C-to hear him there. In this way she would 

not have to answer Leon’s letter. 

He hoped she would attend at C—, and she would , 
but she would have another escort on that night. 

’Twas a moonlight night the first of October and 
quite a lot of young people from Bethany church were 

going in a horseback party to C-. The day before 

Mr. Rector, a young man in Sunday school and church 
there, asked for her company on that night: and she 
gladly accepted. 

The pastor was to entertain Mr. Leigh and the 
speaker, and had invited her there for supper, but she 
saw that all her party had their supper before they 
started, herself included. Neither did they go to the 
home of the pastor at all, but to another friend’s home 
to dress for church. She wore a plain black satin dress, 
big black picture hat, black kid gloves, and no orna¬ 
ment, but the excitement made her cheeks red and gave 
animation to her face. 

They were singing and the church full when the 
horseback party entered in couples, Evangeline and her 
escort last. The latter knew nothing of Leigh, who was 
standing a little to one side talking to the pastor. 
Evangeline made it convenient to be talking to her 
company as they passed, so that her face would be turned 
from Leon. The only seat that they could find was the 
second row from the front. Leon soon introduced the 
speaker and took his place on the platform opposite her. 
She tried to hide behind a lady in front, but had the 





Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


103 


conscious feeling that he was studying her face. Once 
he seemed to be reading her inmost soul. 

When it was over, she tried to get out at once and 
was doing very well when near the door, someone touched 
her arm slightly and on looking around she saw Leon’s 
hand extended to her as he smilingly said, 

‘ ‘ How do you do, Miss Lee ? May I have the pleasure 
of meeting your friend? I also want you to meet the 

speaker.” This over he said, “Brother B-says you 

are to spend the night at his home. His wife also 
expected you for supper and we waited for you. We 
find it very pleasant there.” 

‘ ‘ Thank my pastor very much, but we came in a party 
and I would miss the best of the trip should I miss the 
home ride.” 

In a few moments he said, “Miss Lee, I think your 
church will enjoy hearing my friend, and as it is on our 
way back, he will lecture there on the night of the 
twelfth. Please have the appointment given out.” 

“The church will, no doubt, be glad to hear your 
friend, Mr. Leigh,” answered she coldly. 

By that time they had reached the doorway where 
there was the “prancing and pawing of many a hoof.” 
Gracefully mounting and saying goodbye they cantered 
off into the moonlight, leaving him to wonder who the 
young man was. 



CHAPTER XIX 


“Break, break, break, 

On thy cold grey stones, 0 Sea! 

And I would that my tongue could utter 
The thoughts that arise in me.” 

“Honey, does yo’ wan’ some cut flowahs in de 
gem’n’s room?” 

“I do not care, Mammy, just as you arrange it.” 

“De table’s plum purty. Jes’ go take uh peep,” and 
Mammy with a basket of roses on her arm led the way. 
“Dey be hyah et fo’ ’clock, I reckon. Dat’s w’en de 
train gits in. Whut’s yo’ gwina wah? Uh white dress 
lak yo’ al’us wahs evvah day, uh yo’ Sunday black 
satin ? ’ ’ 

“You may lay the white mull on my bed, please, to 
put on when I come back. ’ ’ 

“Whah yo’ gwine, honey?” 

“I’m going down to the church to teach my em¬ 
broidery class. You ring the bell a little before six, ’tis 
nearly four now, just in time for me to come and dress 
for supper. I had this extra class on purpose, Mammy. 
I do not want to see him any more than necessary.” 

A little later she glanced from the church window to 
see two gentlemen and a lady enter the door of Leeland. 
When next she looked, only one was visible. He sat on 
the steps of the veranda playing with Snowbound. Yes, 
’twas Leon. “Oh! I hope he will not come down here.” 
But he soon went into the house. The church door 
opened suddenly, and she jumped as if shot. 

“Dah be uh lady, ole-lak lady, wid dem dat be uh 
gd)ologister, honey,—dem peoples dat laks rocks,—an’ 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


105 


dey all wan’ yo’ to come tek dem tuh de big red hill in 
de woodlan’ tuh see dem quali rocks. Yo’ ma said tuh 
ax yo’ could yo’ tuhn out yo’ class an’ come.” 

“Tell Mother I’ll be there in twenty minutes, unless 
you can show them how to go by themselves, Mammy. 
Do what you can and if I have to come, wave a handker¬ 
chief from my window. I’ll watch.” 

“All right, honey, I’ll sen’ Isom tuh show dem ef I 
can.” No handkerchief waved, and in a little while she 
saw the three start off with uncle Isom bobbing about, 
and she knew Mammy had arranged it. 

Twenty minutes later she dismissed her class an hour 
before the bell was to ring, as she knew they were gone, 
and started for home. She came through the orchard 
with her white sunbonnet hanging down her back, wore 
a simple white dress, and carried a book, “Idyls of the 
King,” under her arm; her long hair was in braids down 
to her knees. Autumn leaves showered softly down upon 
her like snowflakes. She gathered some. 

“He wanted that walk to get a chance to explain to 
me,” she mused. “He would have had a hard time of it. 
Had he have said to me, ‘Miss Lee, I will be glad to 
stop the twelfth, if you will allow me,’ I would have 
been more lenient, but he wants to hide the real motive 
behind the church. I thought him more of a man. If 
he does not like me, I do not want my heart fooled with,” 
and she walked slowly along deep in thought. When 
suddenly she was aware that he was at that moment 
walking toward her, her eyes were like those of a 
startled deer. 

‘‘How do you do?” said he, lifting his hat. “We had 
started and met the school children, so I turned back for 
you. May I carry those packages for you?” 

“No, thank you,” said she coldly. 


106 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


But he gently took the book and put it under his 
arm. Soon they reached the porch, where the other two 
were waiting. She could not refuse to go without being 
rude, so, after going to her room to arrange her hair and 
change her dress, they started. She prayed that 
they could stay in one party, but soon found that the 
lady and gentleman wished to walk behind some little 
distance, and had to let them go. Leon helped her over 
every little ravine with a gentleness that hurt her, know¬ 
ing she must be firm. Presently after a long silence 
he said, 

‘‘I was so very busy the last months of the spring 
term at school—” 

“It was beautiful in Washington,” broke in Evange¬ 
line, and she talked of the lovely walks there and the 
trolley parties. Then he said, 

“I was ill awhile, and had to double work all spring 
and preach besides—” Again she changed the subject. 
When she paused for something more to say, he con¬ 
tinued, 

“The worst of it all, I had to neglect my friends, 
something I hate to do—” 

“Oh! Mr. Leigh, see the pretty red-bird! I’m a 
great lover of the cardinal. So many have been in the 
pines this year. Some I feed.” They were passing 
through a briery pathway just then and Leon was try¬ 
ing to hold them away for her to pass through. The 
other two came up and the lady said significantly, 

“I hope your pathway in life will be less hedged 
about with thorns.” 

Evangeline’s faced flushed. ’Twas not long until 
they reached the hill where there were fossils in abund¬ 
ance. Leon sat down on the hillside to gather some and 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


107 


Evangeline went farther around with the lady. She got 
where she could see him, but he could not see her. He 
soon stopped gathering fossils and sat in a deep study. 

“Oh! Leon,’’ thought she, “I would let you tell me, 
but I’m afraid you just want to ask pardon for being 
rude in not writing to me, and you do not love me. I 
can not bear to have you tell me again that you can 
never be more than a friend. I must be thus when my 
heart is breaking.” 

All started back together. Down the way golden- 
rod, majestic and tall, grew plentifully by the wayside. 
He stopped to gather some for her, so that the others 
might walk on. She had an intuitive feeling that here 
among the flowers she must listen to his story, favorable 
or unfavorable. So she talked incessantly and finally 
laughingly said that she believed he was going to gather 
all the flowers in the forest. He blushed and started 
homeward with his arms full and she walked fast until 
they caught up with the other two. 

At home she managed to stay out of the parlor until 
supper was announced. Then she hid behind the great 
pyramid of flowers that made the centerpiece, for his 
being at a meal there brought up pleasant memories. 
When ’twas over, she went upstairs to dress for church, 
and never came down until she thought all were gone; 
but when she reached the head of the staircase, she saw 
him walking softly back and forth in the great hall. She 
longed to fly to her room, but he had already seen her 
and paused at the foot of the stair, saying, as she 
descended, 

“The others have gone. Will you allow me to take 
you?” His eyes were beautiful as he looked up. 

There was nothing to say except “Yes,” and she felt 


108 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 




like a bird caged from its freedom of the woods, for she 
thought, “Now I will have to hear.” 

Just as they were leaving the veranda, the old lady 
came hurrying back for a wrap, saying, 

“I can not see very well at night. Would it be ask¬ 
ing too much of you to give me the assistance of your 
other arm, Mr. Leigh?” 

“Certainly,” answered he, offering it politely, and 
the trio proceeded. Evangeline smiled in the dark to 
think how Leon must feel, though for her poor self she 
felt thankful. The crowd all walked home together, and 
there was no chance for even a few words to themselves. 

When they were comfortably seated in the parlor and 
had had some music, Leon called on his friend to recite. 
She wished she could steal away to herself, for Leon’s 
eyes, full of tenderness, were always upon her in wonder 
and she never forgot them. She said to herself, 

“ Oh! eyes, why do you look so full of love and then 
treat me so cruelly? Is your owner a flirt?” 

Presently he said, “Yutaka, please, will you recite 
‘That Old Sweetheart of Mine?’ You know that that is 
my favorite,” and he looked at her tenderly. She could 
not bear that look, for her heart burned within her, so 
she turned her face away to arrange the sofa pillows and 
hide her drooping eyes. 

In his soft, musical, love-laden voice, peculiar to his 
people, the Japanese began, with the sweetest intonation 
all his own, 

“ ‘As one cons at evening o’er an album all alone, 

And muses on the faces of the friends that he 
has known, 

So I turn the leaves of fancy till, in shadowy 
design, 

I find the smiling features of an old sweetheart 
of mine.’ ” 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


109 


Leon never took his eyes from her, and had he shot 
so many real arrows into her heart, it would not have 
hurt worse. She tried not to notice it, but at last she 
could bear it no longer and arose to bring in some water. 
She waited in the hall some time. While there, these 
thoughts ran through her head, 

“Does his friend know that I am an old sweetheart 
of his? Has he drilled him in the pathos of his voice, 
in that recitation, to try me? Had he planned this little 
scene before he came?” 

The poem was nearly finished; deep in thought, she 
did not notice that she framed the parlor doorway just 
as Yutaka said, with an unconscious gesture toward her, 

“‘Yet with eagerness and rapture all my visions 
I resign 

To greet the living presence of that old sweet¬ 
heart of mine.’ ” 

She was so embarrassed, utterly helpless, and weak, 
she half leaned upon the door-post for support. Leon 
bounded across the room and took the pitcher and glass 
from her, 

“Let me pass it for you.” 

The old lady joined in, 

“That recitation was fine, my friend, better than even 
your lecture. I would enjoy hearing more, but our 
carriage has been at the door for some time. I am afraid 
we will miss our train if we wait longer, and that would 
break in upon the dates of your lectures at other places. 
We must be going.” 

Leon paused by Evangeline’s side in the doorway, 
saying, “Our State Convention meets at Richmond, I 
think. You will attend, will you not, Miss Lee?” 
anxiously. 


110 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


“No, not this year.” 

“I’m sorry. We would be glad to have you with us.” 
He held her hand clasped in his a moment as he said 
goodbye, then was gone, and she thought, 

“ Oh! Leon, you were so patient, so kind! If only 
that old clause, ‘I do not want to falsely impress you. 
I can never be more than a friend,’ did not stand like 
a ghost between us; and ring forever in my ears. Why 
did you say it ? Why, why, why ? ’ ’ 

A night or two later uncle Isom, who sat in the 
kitchen, said to Mammy, who was making biscuits and 
giving them a plump sink in the center with her fat 
wrist, 

“’Peahs tuh me lak Miss ’Vangeline nevvah speak 
an’ ac’ jes’ ez kin’ tuh Mr. Leigh ez huh used tuh do. 
De night he wuz hyah, ez I passed ’round de ’ouse, he be 
waitin’ fo’ huh tuh come down stahs an’ he walk an’ walk 
wid hes haid ben’ low towa’d de flo’. Den he go tuh 
huh pictah an’ look an’ look. Hes face lit up lak de 
sunshine w’en huh corned down. He han’som’, he good 
chahactah, he fine fambly, ’peahs lak he lubs huh. But 
I don’ bleb muh lady lub ’im nary bit in grain. Do yo’ 
rec’on huh lub dat Nawf man?” 

Mammy bent back considerably, 

“Nawf man, shucks! Lo’dy, Lo’dy! Yo’ ain’ got 
no sense no way. Huh wuz lak uh block o’ snow-white 
ice tuh ’im ’til he lef. Den tiahd an’ white huh say 
tuh me, 

“‘I don’ wan’ tuh be daceitful, but I has tuh, tuh 
show ’im I’ze uh lady. He mus’ not know I luvs ’im.’ 

“Den wid huh hyah obah huh shol’ahs huh set in de 
moonlight an’ say, 

“ ‘ Oh! muh lub, muh lub ! ’ 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


111 


“De good Lawd mus’ uh-be awdacious busy dat He 
let dem git tuh warkin’ ’ginst each uddah dat uh way. 
W’en twilight shaddahs begin tuh come, huh sets fo’ 
’ouahs by de windah wid huh a’ms on de sill gazin’ 
wishfully up towahds de stahs. Now yo’ knows ef huh 
lubs dat Nawf man, shucks! En ef yo’ evvah breaVes 
dat I tells yo’, yo’ knows whut’s yo’ pohtion. Miss 
Evangeline don’ wan’ nobody boddahin’ wid huh lub 
affahs. ” Mammy knew he would die before he would tell. 

One night as she sat by the window in her room, 
Mammy said, 

“Honey chile, yo’ do look so tiahd an’ peak-lak. 
Doos yo’ wan’ me tuh comb yo’ hyah?” 

“I don’t mind if you would, Mammy.” After a long 
silence she said, “Mammy, I’m going away this winter.” 

“Sho’ly yo’ ain’t, honey. Hits ah pow’ful lonesome 
w’en yo’ gone. Whah yo’ gwine?” 

“I have always longed to be a trained nurse, but I 
expect I’ll teach. I must do something and keep busy, 
to forget Leon, or I will really die. The days seem like 
years. ’ ’ 

“Honey, didn’ he write tuh yo’ de uddah day?” 

“Yes, here is what he said,” taking a note from her 
belt, 

“I write just a word to say that the exact time of the 
Convention is November 13-16. We very much hope you 
will find time to run up and spend those few days with 
us. Will you not come? 

“Very truly your friend, 

“ (Richmond “Leolaine Leigh.” 

c/o N. E. Newman) 


112 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


“What does he take me to be, Mammy? Does he 
think I will follow him up like that? If he wants me to 
write to him again, why isn’t he man enough to ask it? 
No, I can not answer it, neither will I go.” 


CHAPTER XX 


“I’ll pray the prayer of Plato old: 

God made thee beautiful within 
And may thine eyes the good behold 
In everything save sin.” 

“How kum he to evvah kum hyah? He sho’ ’sprised 
huh lady, kumin’ widout eben writin’,” said uncle Isom 
very stiff in his old Confederate uniform. “ Looks uh 
leetle lak wah times tuh see uh soPjah settin’ ’roun’,” 
and he peered through the window down under the great 
trees where Captain Gill was at that time saying, 

“I could not leave America without seeing you once 
again, Miss Lee. I beg pardon for coming so unex¬ 
pectedly and beg pardon also if the question I came all 
the way to Leeland to ask, because the proper place to 
ask it, will be unpleasant to you.” 

She knew what he was going to ask, and to refuse 
him before he asked her she said, 

“I am and always will be a rebel.” 

“Your eyes, Miss Lee, are both the blue and the gray, 
and far more of the blue. ’ ’ 

Feeling how cute he had caught her, a faint smile 
played in her eyes as she answered, 

“Indeed there may be in my eyes, but far more of the 
grey in my heart, Captain Gill.” 

“Ah, too true, I’m afraid. Would that we had met 
years ago. Sometimes I hope you will think of me over 
with the Philippinos and not think it wrong to do so. 
My thoughts will ever be with thee.” 

Pity was about to overwhelm her, but she knew that 
would never do. 


114 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


“With the highest respect I will remember you, 
Captain Gill.’’ 

“No more?” said he beseechingly. 

“I must say no more,” answered she. 

“You refuse me not because I’m a Yankee, but 
because you love some Southern boy. I know not who 
it is, neither will I ask you questions.” Taking her hand 
to say goodbye, he looked at her ring and gazed with 
admiration into her eyes as if to impress them forever 
on his memory. 

Mists filled her eyes. It touched her to see him so 
touched, and it was all she could do to simply say 
goodbye. 

He gave the hand in his a warm grasp, went quickly 
to his horse, and rode as only a soldier can ride out 
through the great gate. She leaned against a pillow and 
wondered why she could not love him. At an open space 
in the trees he turned and waved his handkerchief and 
was gone. A small voice whispered, 

“Captain Gill loves you. He will give you every¬ 
thing earthly you desire in his historic home on the 
Hudson.” 

But before her there arose the vision of the first 
meeting of a pair of beautiful brown eyes with long, 
long lashes, beseeching, accusing. 

“Those eyes keep my heart until stolen from them 
by another. Love is so strange. Captain Gill loves me 
and I can not love him. I love Leon, and he does not 
love me. Yet I will live alone unless I learn to love 
another, and he also loves me in return.” 


CHAPTER XXI 


“Swift little troops of silent sparks, 

Now pausing, now scattering away, as in fear, 

Go threading the soot-forest’s tangled darks 
Like herds of startled deer.” 

A leaden sky thick with snow sprites not yet fallen. 
Whispering fairies, they soon were casting a change 
upon everything, tumbling, tossing, flying, floating 
’round and ’round until they reached the ground. 

Mrs. Lee and some ladies of the church were in the 
parlor marking Christmas presents for the Sunday 
school. 

Evangeline, home for the holidays, had hers already 
stowed away in her room. Besides gifts for the Sunday 
school she had for Mammy a black silk dress and a white 
lace cap and apron; presents for uncle Isom and gifts 
for mother. Off in the kitchen with Mammy it was a 
luxury to toast her feet by the wood fire in the great 
fire place while Mammy iced Christmas cakes and 
stacked plates high with Christmas candies. The pantry 
was running over with “goodies” and a fragrant odor 
issued from hence. Mammy placed a great basket of 
apples beside her, and every now and then stirred the 
fire until it danced and sparkled, doing her best to fill 
Evangeline with the Christmas spirit of gladness; but 
with one knee clasped in her hands the latter sat watch¬ 
ing the pictures in the fire and the starry sparks against 
the dark, billowy background. 

“Hain’t bein’ uh schoolmarm dese months tuck ’way 
dem lonesome day-dreams, honey?” 


116 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


“I’m sorry to say it has not, Mammy. I’m just wait¬ 
ing for you to get through so you can soothe my head 
with the hair-brush and your magic art. Many a night 
have I longed for it when I could not get it.” 

When everything was in place, and the pantry door 
closed, Mammy let down the great flowing mass and the 
two enjoyed the quiet together. 

“Dis haid done quit gree'bin’ ’bout somebody since 
yo’ bin so busy teachin’ dem lil chillens, I ’low.” 

“I wish that I could say that it had, Mammy, but I 
can’t. Even in playing kindergarten games with the 
children Leon seems near and I nearly reach out my 
hand to take his, when lo! he vanishes. If I lose myself 
in slumber, in dreams, he comes, dressed as Sir Gallahad, 
riding in under the pines, gazing up to some lone star— 
at once he disappears down some woodland solitude: 
and day gives place to night. It’s as if his spirit, by 
mental telepathy, ever entreats me to come; and when 
I start, it frightens him away. This restless longing for 
his real presence is gnawing my heart away, and I can’t 
throw it off.” 

“Waits ’til I gits de coffee-pot an’ uh tea-cup an’ I 
tells yo’ fo’tune, honey. See dis an’ dat. Dali’s trouble 
in de cup. He suffahs too, doh he come some day, en not 
on’y dem gret eyes speak lies lub, but lies lips will 
’spressify de same. Yo’ bof be kinda puhfected tru 
suffahin’—de sweetes’ lub on uth.” 

“That will do, Mammy. It’s nice to mend again 
‘Cock Robin’ stories, but if he suffers, why does he not 
write and know the decision. ’Tis the gentleman’s 
place and not the lady’s. I will never write to him unless 
he writes to me first. I thought you were going to tell 
me of his marriage to another, so my heart would be at 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


117 


rest; or that some knight mightier than he came and 
stole my heart against my will, until gradually he had 
it all, and I was content once more.” 

“But, honey, yo’ won’ gib any uddah gem’n uh 
chance.” 

“What’s the use to be nice to some one, and perhaps 
he learns to love me, when I can’t return it?” 

“Dat’s right. Don’ git mixed up wid dem Yankees 
much whali yo’ teachin’. An’ yo’ tells dem fo’ me dat 
w’en dey teks dem pictahs o’ de Souf, tuh tek sum o’ de 
mansions in de rich valleys o’ Virgini. Dey teks de wus’ 
ole cabins dey kin fin’ tuh sen’ Nawf, an’ no wondah 
dey tink, up dah, we-alls no ’count an’ wuthless. All 
New Yoak ain’t slums, neitha am all de Souf cabins. 
Tell um tuh mix um up uh lil grain, so’s dey tells no 
lies. Humph! I can’t fo’git de wah, honey, an’ whut 
dem Yankees do tuh evvahbody. May yo’ nebbah lib 
tuh see uh wah, honey.” 


CHAPTER XXII 


“Where the blades of the grave-grass quiver, 

Asleep are the ranks of the dead: 

Under the sod and the dew, 

Waiting the judgment day: 

Under the one the Blue, 

Under the other the Grey.” 

“Do you want anything, Mammy?” 

“No, honey.” 

“The doctor said he thought you were doing nicely.” 

“Yas, honey, but de doctor don’ know lak me an’ de 
Lo’d. Las’ night Mammy dream o’ de glory-lan’. De 
blood fum de Sabior’s side wash me white ez de dribben 
snow, an’ I mount up, up, up an’ play in de jaspah sea. 
De Lo’d am uh-callin’ Mammy, honey.” 

She lay still a long time. Then, 

“Muh min’ wan’s tuh go roamin’ back tuh de ole 
days. I’ze jes’ uh chunk o’ uh gal w’en Marse Morris 
sen’ £o’ me. I stan’ fo’ ’im wid muh bonnit in muh han.’ 
He go an’ fotch dat lil baby wid hits long white clo’s 
hangin’ way down, an’ laid hit in muh a’ms an’ say, 
‘Fum dis time on yo’ ken stay in de big ’ouse an’ be 
nuss an’ chief ’ouse-maid. We can trus’ yo’. Keep 
neat, be lady-like an’ refine.’ I hahdly know whut 
‘ refine ’ meant den, but I heah de white folks say dat ole 
missus de mos’ refine lady in all eastahn Virgini. So I 
jes’ try tuh be lak huh. Yo’ dis lak ole Missus ’bout dat 
refinement, honey, but hit don’ hab much time tuh grow 
in de Nawf. An’ yo’ don’ see hit ez much now in ole 
Virgini ez in dem days. Hit’s uh-growin’ dimmah an’ 
dimmah evah yeah. Hit’s uh de mixin’ o’ de Nawf an’ 
de Souf, honey.” 



Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


119 


There was a long silence. Then, 

“Honey, chile, dah ain’ evvah gwina be no mo’ 
mammies, kaze de sahcumstance, de ole Souf, dat made 
nm ain’ ebbah gwina be no mo’. I tink on hit right 
smart. Deys bleeged tnh die wid hit. Dem wuz good 
ole times, honey. Yo’alls bin so good tuh me. Humph! 
I sut’nly does feel po’ly.” 

She lay with her eyes closed for awhile. Then they 
opened and wandered over to the gate of the little 
burying-ground, where the stones shone white in the 
moonlight. 

“Honey, ole Mastah an’ ole Missus lay side tuh side 
obah dah. Muh Lady Mahg’ret an’ Marse Morris, wid 
de flag ’bout ’im, side tuh side. Dah be uh place fo’ 
Miss Virgini an’ yo’, den dah be uh lil connah at de foot 
o’ yo’-alls. Who gwina lay dah? Couldn’ yo’-all let 
ole Mammy lay huh bones tuh res’ dah? Huh alius bin 
wid de white folks w’en huh libin, an’ ’peahs lak huh 
don’ wanna be wid de niggahs w’en huh daid.” 

“Most assuredly, Mammy. It’s yours without the 
asking. If there is anything else you want, you shall 
have it.” 

“I’ze glad I done ’spressify dat wish. I’m satisfy, 
’cep’s I wan’ uh black coffin wid fringe on hit, an’ be 
baried in muh las’ black silk dress an’ de white lace 
ap’on an’ cap yo’ gib me. I’ze alius had nice clo’s tuh 
weah, good tings tuh eat, wahm ’ouse tuh lib in, an’ 
big trips wid yo’ w’en yo’ lil. Doh I didn’ wan’ huh 
tuh, Miss Virgini jes’ would pay me evvah since de 
niggahs bin free. I’ze spen’ all I wan’ tuh; den in dat 
ole pocket-book in muh trunk is uh t’ousand dollahs I’ze 
sabed easy nuf. I wan ’ yo ’ tuh use hit fo ’ de school yo ’ 
has alius wanted, ur fo’ Beth’ny chu’ch.” 

Evangeline could bear it no longer, 


120 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


“ Oh! Mammy, Mammy. What will I ever do with¬ 
out you ? ’ ’ she cried, for had not her benign old face been 
the first to greet her when she opened her eyes to this 
world, and her dark hand the first to caress her. In 
babyhood, maidenhood, and womanhood it had led her 
with tenderest care. 

“Nemmine, honey, nemmine, honey baby, Mammy 
bin wid yo’ long time. Huh gittin’ ole. Don’ cry so; 
yo’ be plum wo’ out. Mammy gwina tek uh lil nap, an’ 
yo’ lay down and res’.” 

In an hour she awoke and said, 

“I feels uh whole lot bettah. Tells Isom I wan’ tuh 
talk tuh ’im lil.” 

After she had talked to him, she fell asleep again. 
At twelve the three were still by her bedside when she 
awoke, 

“De Lo’d am uh-callin’ Mammy, honey, an’ huh has 
tuh go. I ain’ skeered, honey chile. De watahs am 
peaceful, an’ ole mastah an’ ole missus—an’ muh lady— 
all am leanin’ down tuh lif ’ ole Mammy up. W’en de 
trump soun’, I be dah at de beau’ful gate, waitin’ wid 
dem fo’ yo’-alls. I’ze cornin’, L’od—goodbye, Isom, 
meet me dah—goodbye, Miss Virgini—Oh ! goodbye— 
muh—beau’ful—lil—honey—baby!!” and with her hand 
still on the soft mass of hair as Evangeline knelt by her 
bed, Mammy joined the spirits of the departed in the 
land of the hereafter. 

######## 

In a few weeks there was a pretty marble cross at her 
grave, in which was her picture and inscribed under it, 

“Honey, chile, dah ain’ evvah gwina be no mo’ 

5 J 


mammies. 


CHAPTER XXIII 


“Seldom can the heart be lonely, 

If it seek a lonelier still, 

Self-forgetting, seeking only 
Emptier cups of love to fill.” 

“Cousin,” said Maudrey as they sat under the pines 
at Leeland, “it seems a long time since I saw you last. 
What have you been doing?” 

“Mostly getting old, Maudrey.” 

“We are not in our teens any more, to be sure, yet 
I see no silver threads among the gold. Ten or twelve 
more years and I will establish a bachelor’s hall, and 
come over now and then to take my old-maid cousin out 
driving. The place seems lost without Mammy and 
uncle Isom.” 

“It does to all of us. A year and a half now since 
she died, and just six months afterward we placed him 
by her side. At his request we buried him in the old 
Confederate suit of grey that grandpa gave him. Do 
you want to walk over to the graves?” 

“Yes, presently. I brought a wreath of wax roses 
and forget-me-nots in a glass case for her grave. You 
remember how much she liked the wax flowers at the 
cemetery. For uncle Isom’s grave I have a wreath of 
holly. Who helps in the kitchen and on the farm now?” 

“Christine sent us a good colored girl, and uncle 
Isom already had a man trained in everything about the 
place.” 

“I heard that you helped Christine find work, and in 
other ways, until she graduated at Tuskegee,” 

“Who told you?” ~ t 


122 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


“Never mind. I heard also that you had a nice 
little college for the darkies built at Liberty with her at 
the head.” 

“I’m not the one.” 

“Why, your minister told me. Is he in the habit of 
misrepresenting ? ’ ’ 

“Mammy built it, Maudrey, or rather she left a 
thousand dollars she had saved, and it went to the build¬ 
ing of it; besides many of the darkies gave their labor 
free. Even the women and children helped.” 

“Even Evangeline helped,” and Maudrey’s eyes 
twinkled, for he wanted to make her confess to the 
charity. “What do you call it?” 

“In Memoriam.” 

“Booker Washington methods, I suppose.” 

“Yes, and as fine an industrial department as you 
could find anywhere. Christine is in her sphere now 
and as happy as a queen.” 

“I was told she had a mulatto beau who teaches at 
Tuskegee and comes up to call on her at Liberty.” 

“Yes, I don’t mind telling you they are to be married 
real soon. He will be a great help in her school.” 

“Well, we’ll make a call at the college too. What do 
you say? I would like to see it.” 

“Certainly.” 

“When have you heard from any member of our old 
house party?” 

“All along. Nan and Tolar, Katherine and Harry 
Hill, Grace and Herbert Moninger got married. The 
latter has become noted in Sunday school work.” 

“Yes, I noticed that in ‘The Standard.’” 

“Errett McDiarmid, another Bethany schoolmate, 
taught a long time at Hazel Green, Kentucky, a moun- 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


123 


tain school. You know that ever since we read ‘Little 
Women’ when we were children, I’ve always dreamed of 
my Plumfield: if I only had some one to help me.” 

‘ ‘ Is not ‘ In Memoriam ’ school enough ? ’ ’ 

“No, that’s just for Liberty. I want one that I can 
help run myself. I would love it in the mountains. Or 
bring some of the children over to me at Leeland.” 

“You have already been teaching have you not? 
And at what place?” 

“Yes, ’way down in Lee where it meets with Tennes¬ 
see and Kentucky is the cornerstone on a knob of the 
mountain overlooked by the Pinnacle. A stream from 
King Solomon’s Cave, under the Pinnacle rock, flashes 
in sprays down through Cumberland Gap. Near this 
spot, in Tennessee, a sanatorium was built. When it 
failed, it was bought for a school building. Dr. Larry, 
its president, and his queenly wife started an industrial 
school called Grant-Lee Hall, with boxes for dining-tables 
and chairs. I first knew of it at a Christian Endeavor 
Convention when I was entertained in the building. It 
had furniture then. Dr. Larry wanted me to teach a 
kindergarten for him in the mornings and some college 
studies in the afternoon, so I accepted. From the help 
it receives from the North, it is fast becoming a uni¬ 
versity—Lincoln Memorial University. It is for our 
mountain people, especially of the three States. I love 
to teach them because they make splendid men and 
women. I have an essay about them, written when I was 
at Bethany, I will let you read. ’ ’ 

There was a flash of crimson as a cardinal lit in a 
pine over their heads and darted here and there among 
its branches, content in its leafy hiding-place. They 
watched it in silence for a while. 


124 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


Evangeline sat leaning her head back against the 
tree, watching the billowy clouds in the blue sky. 
Maudrey at her feet on the grass seemed to be asleep, 
with his head resting on a root, but he was in reality 
studying her face as he looked from half-closed lids. 
Presently he said, 

“Busy forgetting, Evangeline?” 

“Forgetting what, Maudrey?” 

“In other words, where is Leigh? You have not 
told me any secrets, but your face is a well-written page. 
You love a memory at least.” 

“Nearly two years ago I read in a church paper that 
he went to Hawaii as a missionary.” 

“Has he never written to you from there?” 

“No.” 

“If I had him, I would rake him over the coals. 
Where is Miss Muriel?” 

“They live in Lexington, Kentucky.” 

‘ ‘ Has she never married ? ’’ 

“No.” 

“I think I will renew our correspondence. What say 
you ?’’ 

“Certainly, you should have long ago. Are you still 
going to hold your government position in Washington?” 

“Yes, get your hat and we will walk over to the 
cemetery, and then I want you to take a spin with me 
in my new roadster while you tell me more of Muriel. 
I came by Luray, Charlottesville, and Richmond. You 
are to go back with me for the rest of your vacation. 
No excuses.” 

“I would just love a trip through in a car, but I’ve 
been thinking seriously of coming this winter and taking 
a nurse’s course in a hospital, then a position in the 
children’s ward.” 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


125 


All right. If I’m not too busy at the time, I will 
come for you.” 

He looked at her curiously for a moment, then said 
gently, 

"Does teaching leave you too much time to think, 
cousin ? ’ ’ 

She nodded her head and began talking of Muriel. 

When they returned in the twilight, Maudrey got out 
to open the big gate and took the mail from the box 
near by. 

"What’s there?” 

"Only two papers, The Evangelist and The Evening 
Star,” and he tossed them into her lap. 

"To hear a motor throbbing under these pines will 
make Ridinghood-redbird take notice.” 

"It has been a nice ride, Maudrey, and thank you. 
I’m glad you came in your car, for you can teach me 
how to run yours while you are here; then mother and I 
will get one. You can help us select ours.” 

With the air of a king’s coachman he threw open the 
door and took the hand of the princess to alight. 

"You look through the papers while I put the car 
away,” and he found in the quarters an ideal spot for it. 

When he at last came around to the veranda again, 
Mammy’s substitute handed him a note, 


"Maudrey, please excuse me for tonight. I’ll see you 
in the morning. 


"Evangeline.” 


"Miss Evangeline’s gone to her room; said for you 
to look through The Evangelist , sir.” 

He picked it up and after a bit his eye found what 
he knew she wanted him to read: 


126 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


“ Just as we go to press we received a cablegram from 
Hawaii, bearing the sad news of the death of Bro. 
Leolaine Leigh. At his request he was buried near the 
seashore, where the plaintive Hawaiian waves ever 
murmur a caress. 

“The brotherhood has lost one of its most conse¬ 
crated members.” 

Next morning the cousins sat in a boat on the lake, 
drifting and saying very little. 

“You certainly have my sympathy, cousin, and I 
will always do all I can to help you forget. ’ ’ 

“Some way, Maudrey, I’ve always had a longing to 
be remembered when I’m gone—not with a towering 
monument of cold marble but in the warm hearts of 
human beings, a something of the spirit that lives on 
here through the ages, after my body has crumbled into 
dust. It must have been something of the same longing 
that caused the Sphinx and pyramids to be built. I 
think I will make my life into a story—my heroine as I 
have always longed to look, my soul as it is. Perhaps 
someone else may read and remember me. ’ ’ 

“It will not be hard for me to remember you, cousin,” 
and there were mists in Maudrey’s eyes. 

“Nor me you, Maudrey. I’ve heard it said that if 
we save some one and, after we die, they, in turn, save 
many souls, that God will reckon their jewels to us, as 
well as to themselves. In one way that’s living on. It 
seems I do so little.” 


CHAPTER XXIV 


“O Liberty, can man resign thee, 

Once having felt thy gen’rous flame? 

Can dungeon, bolts, and bars confine thee, 

Or whips thy noble spirit tame?” 

The great World War was raging across the waters. 
Terrible sounds on the earth, in the air and sea had been 
going on for some time. 

Uncle Sam, in true chivalry to France, offered his 
gallant sons in return for Lafayette’s services years 
before. Therefore many training camps dotted the 
United States over, where the rich and the poor, the 
university graduate and the man who could not write 
his name, the refined and the roughest tough, wore the 
same uniform and were to join in one common cause of 
sacrifice and service for others. 

At Camp Lee there was no handsomer soldier nor a 
more general favorite than Maudrey Legend, especially 
when his pretty cousin and her mother came to visit. 

Not many months after his entry Legend, with a few 
of his mates was off on a furlough—guests at Leeland. 
Muriel Murland also was there. The air of the place 
was quite military. A favorite resort was under a big 
cherry-tree in the orchard, laden with crimson fruit. 
Here the girls of the party knitted sweaters and helmets 
for their beaux, while the said gentlemen lolled on the 
grass beside them eating cherries, winding yarn, or 
reading the latest war news aloud. There were long 
auto-rides, picnics, suppers under the pines in the twi¬ 
light, serenading parties in the moonlight on the water— 
painting pictures on memory’s walls, Maudrey said, for 
him to dream on in the trenches in France later on. 


128 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


One picture eclipsed all the rest, his proposal and 
Muriel’s “Yes.” Off to themselves in a boat near the 
water-lily bed the “sweetest story” was told. 

“When the war is over over there, I’ll buy the old 
mansion just yonder and the farm with it next to aunt 
Virginia’s and build a beautiful bungalow with columns 
and christen it Murland. You and Evangeline can visit 
each other through the orchard with the latest crochet 
pattern or cake recipe.” Thus they talked for an hour 
or so. Then Muriel said, 

‘ 4 Evangeline has changed so much, don’t you think ? ’ ’ 

‘ 4 Do you know why ? ’ ’ 

“I think I guess.” 

44 1 happen to know. Leigh’s dead. A whole year and 
a half she gave her time to the children’s ward in the 
hospital and every charity imaginable, working with 
fever patients until she took it herself. For weeks we 
did not think she would live. When she was convalescent, 
we brought her home. The doctor said she must rest all 
summer, and she is taking his advice simply because she 
has her heart set on going overseas as a Red Cross nurse. 
Aunt Virginia has had company for her, and visits to 
Camp Lee. For her special benefit I selected some of the 
finest fellows in camp on this furlough, as though for my 
pleasure, but I thought one of them might win her. 
She actually accepted Erwin Ensign’s company to church 
one night, but I’m afraid that’s all. I must go now and 
tell her the news. I’ll be back in a minute.” 

He was away up the steps three at a time. He found 
her in the dining-room seeing to the refreshments. 

“I’m an engaged man—engaged !” he announced. 

Sitting on the window-sill he told her of his home- 
to-be. 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 129 

“Why, cousin, what are you crying about? Did you 
not always plan for me to marry Muriel?” 

“Yes, Maudrey, but it was so sudden and some way 
brings up memories—of—of—” 

“I know,” he finished for her. “It would have been 
nice in the evenings, when the day’s work was over at 
Murland and Leeland and you two women were talking 
of pies, cakes, and pastry, to see Leigh and I close by 
discussing crops and politics. I wish with all my heart 
it could have been, cousin. Muriel is going to take a 
nurse’s course somewhere while I am at Camp Lee and 
go with us overseas. Now come go see her and we will 
receive congratulations and you two can plan your 
dresses, for you are to be maid of honor.” 

A verse from one of Leon’s letters, years ago, kept 
repeating itself in her thoughts, 

“Whatever future God has for me, 

Sunshine or shadow as pleaseth Thee, 

If darkness, my pathway thorny and rough, 

God is my Prather—that is enough.” 

When they reached Muriel, Evangeline had the two 
stand side by side, 

“I’m just as happy as you look to be—both of you. 
Never betray her trust, Maudrey, and you will find your 
home the happiest place in the world.” 

“Why, cousin, how do you know?” 

“Home is not the gilded walls, neither poverty and 
dirt—’Tis the loving spirit that pervades and the untir¬ 
ing efforts to make each other truly happy. You see I 
have made homes a study, for I have hoped to have one 
myself some day; but now that I never expect to marry, 


130 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


I hope to find in your home all my ideals fulfilled both 
for you and yours. May God bless you both with 
heaven’s richest blessings,” and she kissed each in turn. 

“It makes me so happy that you should love each 
other and not either be disappointed in your first love.” 

“Thank you, cousin. I’m going to try to be a model 
husband. You remember you selected my wife a few 
years ago and I remarked, ‘Not hard to love, I should 
think. ’ ’ ’ 

“So I did.” 

“But it’s been mighty hard to love her,” and mis¬ 
chief played all over his features. “And guess what she 
said when I asked her if she loved me. She never said 
yes at all but, ‘I can keep house and make jams, jellies, 
and preserves,’ and I answered quick as lightning, ‘In 
our home you can make all the sweet stuff you want. ’ ’ ’ 

“Now, Evangeline, do you believe him? He made 
every bit of that up.” 

“Say, cousin, we both hope you may have the home 
you have longed for, for the angels know you deserve it.” 


CHAPTER XXV 


“Ye sons of France, awake to glory! 

Hark, hark, what myriads bid you rise, 

Your children, wives, and grandsires hoary, 

Behold their tears and hear their cries!” 

As was often the case during the war, the embarking 
of Maudrey’s regiment came eight months before he 
expected it. It was kept secret by the officers, so that 
enemy spies would not know when transports were taking 
American soldiers across. He had received a telegram 
from Muriel, saying her mother was sick with tuber¬ 
culosis and she had to go with her to Arizona; therefore, 
the wedding would have to be postponed and she would 
join them when she could in France. There was no time 
to pay her a last visit. This was a part of war. 

Mrs. Lee, uncle Ed, and aunt Celeste accompanied 
Maudrey and Evangeline as far as New York. Tears 
were near the surface of many an eye, yet this little group 
fought bravely to curtain them in. They took in the 
city and the two departing ones were loaded with every 
sweet and delicacy they could carry. As darkness drew 
near, they could hear the panting, as if for breath, of 
the great ship and see her fast filling with khaki figures. 
When they were on deck, Evangeline found two other 
nurses and Salvation Army women who were to be com¬ 
pany for her on this trip. 

“Evangeline’s Red Cross uniform is the most becom¬ 
ing dress I have ever seen her wear, ’ ’ sighed aunt Celeste, 
“and her great army cape is so pretty.’’ 

“What are all those dark looking objects around the 
ship?” asked Evangeline. 


132 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


“English destroyers that are to convoy this vessel 
and one or two more filled with American men, ’ ’ said her 
uncle. 

“It reminds me of Cleopatra’s barge with black gladi¬ 
ators to guard her. They certainly look comforting.’’ 

“Did you notice this ship is camouflaged so a sub¬ 
marine can’t find her out at sea very well—painted green 
like the briny deep with waves breaking over it? Then, 
too, when day dawns, the destroyers will puff out 
immense clouds of black smoke, so that their charges can 
not be seen in the blackness; and they will fight to the 
death if a ‘sub’ slips in. Glorious convoys! guarding 
millions of gallant youths who are to learn to die bravely 
and fearlessly over there,” and uncle Ed looked fondly 
at his son. 

“My fighting will be up among the stars along with 
old Mars. An air-plane for me, where I can hide in the 
clouds and dash out on some buzzard German soaring 
about, or look down and read their army’s movements— 
a superman of the air. An ace is my goal,” exclaimed 
Maudrey. 

“What is that, my son?” asked his mother. 

“One who brings down five enemy planes, each 
victory having at least three witnesses. My plane will 
be christened ‘Red Wing,’ a dark maroon red.” 

“Any work for me my hands find to do,” said 
Evangeline. “I fear submarines and to be near the 
battlefront, but that is as nothing compared with the 
fear I have of falling prisoner into the hands of those 
cruel, inhuman Germans, when I think of them cutting 
up women bit by bit with their swords as they have 
already done. My carrier pigeon is a great comfort— 
the wireless for Maudrey and me,” and she kissed the 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


133 


pink bill of her snow-white pigeon. “Her name is 
White Wings.” 

“Keep your Bibles close to your hearts, children, and 
repeat often the verse of your Savior, who said on the 
cross, ‘Father, forgive them, for they know not what 
they do. ’ ’ ’ 

“No, not what they do to thousands of mothers and 
fathers as well as sons and daughters,” added uncle Ed. 

Then the destroyers with hats off, as it were, politely 
bowed their heads while the goodbyes were said, and tears 
held back so long flowed freely and mingled with each 
other’s and nobody cared. With the Goddess of Liberty 
pointing upward to the stars and God above, and the 
great briny deep below, the vessel moved forward, a mass 
of khaki figures by the darkness befriended. This 
convoy was found to consist of fifteen transports and 
twenty-two destroyers. 

They were delighted that their journey was nearly 
over and they had had no trouble, when all at once in 
the Irish Sea three “subs” bobbed up. The destroyers 
immediately put out a smoke-screen and the transports 
began zigzagging. In so doing one of their own vessels 
rammed the Anselm, on which Evangeline and Maudrey 
were sailing. Life-boats were gotten out and life- 
preservers put on. 

“Do let me go in the same boat with you, Maudrey. 
Oh! horrors! The submarines may shell the life-boats 
after torpedoing the ship. They have done it to other 
ships they attacked and jeered at the struggles of their 
victims.” 

Depth bombs were put out, and the transports 
scattered here and there to land various places, some in 
Liverpool and others on the coasts of Ireland and Wales, 
the Anselm on the Irish coast. 


CHAPTER XXVI 


“Where are arms enough to hold them? 

Hands to pat each shining head?” 

Evangeline had not been long in training in France, 
until her natural love for children was found out, and 
she was placed in a home for refugee children and young 
French mother-girls who had been taken from their 
homes as prisoners in German raids, and left as the 
Germans moved on. ’Twas her hardest task to teach 
mother-love to many of them who so hated the Germans. 

Germans, whose homeland she reverenced as the 
paradise of childhood, Froebel’s fatherland, the founder 
of the kindergarten, and now for Prussian militarism to 
mark little children with such a curse. This she found 
hard to forgive. One girl of high birth begged Evange¬ 
line to take her home with her to America when the war 
was over and she promised. She taught Evangeline 
French and in return the latter gave her English. Quite 
a friendship grew up between them. Sometimes they 
went together to the village and called at little stone 
houses for butter and eggs. Evangeline loved to see the 
French women in their homes. The French girl told her 
that a German officer took her from her home and burned 
the house, and she did not know whether her grand¬ 
parents were burned or not. 

One day Evangeline was playing games with the 
children in a little grove nearby when there arose a great 
excitement among them over seeing an airplane alight in 
a wheat-field close by. The aviator stepped forth with 
goggles on and came toward them. 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


135 


“Hello! cousin, I’ve come to take you for a ride in 
Red-Wing,” said Maudrey. “Is she not a beauty? 
Don’t be afraid. I can certainly carry you safely.” 

“It’s a plane that would make anybody proud to own 
it,” and she looked it over from every angle. “But as 
to my riding, that is another question.” 

“You can’t fall out. I’ll strap you in tight.” After 
much persuasion he succeeded in buckling her in. When 
well into the heavens, he asked, 

“How do you like it?” 

“It makes me feel as if I were an angel soaring 
between two worlds. No Germans near, are there?” 

“No Satans to bother the angels, eh? I think not. 
I’m taking you away from the battle-line all the time. 
I have a letter from Muriel and one in it for you. She 
sent us a lot of things—a new helmet for me and a 
sweater for you, bandages for your hospital, and so on. 
When I get to earth again, I will give you yours. Her 
mother is better. Feel there by the seat and you will 
find a box of home-made candies.” 

“Um-m-m! How good!” and she dropped a piece in 
Maudrey’s mouth also. 

“I see right now it’s going to take all the transports 
in the British and American navies to accommodate the 
orphans you will take home with you when the war is 
over. Thought you did not believe in mixing up 
foreigners and Anglo-Saxons?” 

“But they are so pitiful. I have promised to take 
my French teacher and her little girl named Lorraine, 
and I may take some more.” 

“You will supply all the first families of Virginia 
with French maids, cooks, and so on.” 

“And save the best maid and cook for you and 

Muriel.” 


136 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


“Say, do; that’s a bargain. You know how to pick 
a good one. I’m depending on you for trained servants. 
I’ve been visiting my friend Ensign in the trenches. He 
said he came very near having trench fever in those 
vermin-infested trenches with rivulets of mud and 
water flowing through, but now his company has real 
up-to-date intrenchments, kitchen, dining-room, and 
even a stable. Think of it, cousin, he has a cow down 
there in the stable. He just found her wandering about 
in the danger zone and took care of her. He gets lots of 
fresh milk and butter too. Communicating trenches lead 
back to company kitchens and rest rooms of the armies. 
’Tis here we meet. He is ever talking of his pleasant 
days at Leeland while we were at Camp Lee. There is a 
fine picture on for Saturday at the Y. M. C. A. movie. 
He begged me to ask you if he could have your com¬ 
pany to it. ’ ’ 

“Just one lady among all those soldiers?” 

“No, several boys have engagements with nurses and 
some with French girls for the same night. I’ll be your 
chaperon: we both have leave of absence. Please go, 
for after Sunday I go into real service and we will be 
having no chances then for any recreation. You cer¬ 
tainly will not be worried with Ensign’s company often. 
What must I tell him?” 

“You may tell him yes, for I, too, go Monday into 
regular hospital work as extra nurse anywhere they 
need me.” 

“Thank you. Ensign will be glad. He wants to give 
you a good time if it’s to be had in France. Goodbye. 
How about taking a trip to Berlin in this one day?” 

“No, I believe not yet.” 

“I’ll be on hand Saturday night in a car with 
Ensign.” 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


137 


“Very well. Thank you so much for the ride. 
Goodbye, ” and she waved her handkerchief as he arose, 
and watched Red-Wing far into the heavens. 

True to his promise Maudrey and his friend arrived 
early in the afternoon Saturday. They drove up near 
the front lines where the Salvation Army women who 
came over on the Anselm with them had a dugout 
rest-room. They were served fresh doughnuts and 
grape-juice. 

From there they went to Paris sight-seeing and to a 
matinee. They bought her large boxes of candy, baskets 
of grapes, and fruits of all kinds, they went to dine 
at a great French hotel, in a dining-hall filled with 
handsomely dressed officers from most every nation 
under heaven, and fashionably dressed French women. 
The courtesy and hearty comradeship paid every 
American was beautiful to see. 

From Paris they went to the Y. M. C. A. movie and 
then home again. Ensign and Maudrey both felt repaid 
when Evangeline said with animation, 

“I can’t tell you when I’ve had such a delightful 
afternoon and evening. Thank you both so much. 
Goodbye. ’ ’ 


CHAPTER XXVII 


“In Flanders fields the poppies blow 
Between the crosses, row by row, 

That mark our place, and in the sky 
The larks, still bravely singing, fly.” 

Maudrey was getting uneasy about Evangeline. He 
had not heard from her for three weeks, when the carrier 
pigeon arrived one day with a letter on thin paper 
written closely, 

“Dear Maudrey: 

“I’m in real service now in a hospital mostly filled 
with wounded marines from the Marne battlefield. One 
other nurse and I have been going with the orderlies to 
the deserted battlefields for the wounded—the dead and 
the dying everywhere and such intense suffering. I have 
not had time to write. As we came back to the hospital 
one day, we came to a quaint old Catholic church. We 
entered near the rostrum, the tread of the carpet was 
soft, and blinded by the light, we were for a moment 
unaware of another presence in the room; but finally 
discovered a small, greyhaired gentleman with the 
insignia of a general on his uniform kneeling at the altar 
praying. Going softly to the front door we saw an 
orderly outside holding a horse. I asked him who it was. 

“ ‘General Foch, Miss,’ he said. At once the General 
himself appeared and saluted as only a Frenchman can. 

“‘Uncle Sam’s daughters, I perceive,’ said he, ‘angels 
of mercy, taking care of my wounded boys. God bless 
you and may His presence be with each soldier as he 
takes his last furlough to the land of the blest.’ Saluting 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


139 


again he was gone. He is one person I had longed to 
see. Write me a long letter, if you can, and tell me what 
you and Red-Wing have been into. I saw a plane the 
other day and thought it was you coming. Letters from 
home have never reached me here. Send any you have. 

“Your cousin, 

“Evangeline.” 

She received in reply, 

‘ ‘ Hear Evangeline: 

‘ ‘ Glad to know you were in the land of the living. I 
had been having my doubts. One never knows which 
world they will be living in at any moment, over here. 
I have just one big piece of news —I have won my goal! 
Was helping a new aviator who had an observation plane. 
We were soaring in a fog on our side, when I spied two 
planes. I put my glasses upon them and saw black 
crosses upon each. I signaled my friend to make for 
cover in the fog, and at the same time I dashed out upon 
the first black cross and sent him down, his plane blazing 
as it went. The other one made at me like fury. I was 
afraid he was more than a match for me, and the stunts 
I did to keep from being hit can not be described by me. 
I looped and curved and looped a double loop; and he 
nearly did the same. Red-Wing got one shot, but to no 
hurt. I brought to bear my master stroke and he went 
crashing to the earth. I most surely will drop a wreath 
on that German aviator’s grave; he deserves it. 

“Another time one of the best trained boys in our 
escadrille was sent with me to overlook a certain wing 
of enemy entrenchments and we were returning when 
something caused me to whirl around. There were three 
German planes after us, planning to surround us—a way 


140 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


they have. My companion turned and made for the 
outer one near him. I soared high and dived at the first 
with success; as he went down, the other one would have 
set me afire had I not looped quick as a wink and given 
him a shot in the turning. He went down in a flame. 
My companion had gotten his, but there was a fourth 
one somewhere that had stolen in on my friend unaware 
and had him in a tight place. I gave the enemy plane a 
broadside and he, too, was laid low. That completed my 
five. Oh! boy, I dreamed of hornets buzzing around me 
all night. 

“Ensign has been with Haig in his great tank drive 
when he surprised the Boches, sleeping in their trenches, 
early one morning. They marched all night to do this. 

“ Evangeline, if anything happens to me, give my 
watch and any money coming to me to Muriel. I 
also always have on my person a letter for her. At head¬ 
quarters are keepsakes for you and the rest of the 
family. 

“Another thing, cousin, I am prepared to go West 
any time. Am not afraid. 

“Write often. 


“With love from Maudrey.” 


CHAPTER XXVIII 


“We are the dead. Short days ago 
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, 

Loved and were loved, and now we lie 
In Flanders fields.” 

From her patients Evangeline heard an account of 
the battle of the Marne, how the marines were 
cheered by the crowds in the villages through which 
they passed, and marched to the front in straight 
even lines, as if on a parade ground, to glory or the 
grave—mostly the latter, the price they paid. They 
charged cheering, and as the battle grew fiercer, 
yelled like Indians as they met their foe. America 
had come at last. Some would stand for an hour, 
it seemed, after they were shot before they fell 
in a heap. Against this khaki-colored wave Germany 
sent her Prussian Guard and the best she had. They 
wanted to strike terror to the hearts of the Americans at 
the very beginning. They had tried to strike terror to 
all the Allies by their cowardly deeds of cutting helpless 
women bit by bit. Ah! could they but have known that 
those very acts brought out the mettle of the Americans, 
and whetted their swords to fight to the finish. Be it 
said, at no time during the World War, and at no place, 
did they ever retreat before the hosts of the Huns. 

The Marines took a section of Belleau Wood. The 
Boches were on the run and surrendering to the Ameri¬ 
cans right and left, but the latter lost heavily; and the 
hospitals were filled with their wounded. The work of 
the Red Cross was almost as important as the work of 
the soldiers. 


142 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


Evangeline and one other nurse were in an auto 
following ambulances to the new battlefields. As they 
drew near, the road was blocked by broken down trucks. 
A little in the distance they could hear calls for “Water 
—water!” some of them dying away as life ebbed out. 
The nurses got out and walked ahead. Among the 
splintered trees, stumps, and other wreckage they could 
see little khaki-colored mounds of wounded. Filling 
their canteens from a brook near by, with their cups they 
passed among them, comforting, easing positions, and 
taking messages; sometimes stumbling on some soft sink¬ 
ing substance, to find, in horror, it was a piece of a man; 
or in giving a drink to another to find he had no mouth 
left—shot away. Completely absorbed in their work 
they did not notice that the road was cleared, and the 
trucks and ambulances had moved on with their loads 
and they were left alone on the battlefield. They just 
realized that they were near the front lines when there 
was an explosion, and pieces of spent shrapnel hit 
Evangeline all over the body, not with enough force to 
cause her to fall, but bruising and hurting her. The 
enemy had singled them out. Immediately both nurses 
dropped into shell holes. It soon began to rain. Crawl¬ 
ing as best they could, they made their way to the ruins of 
an old church and found shelter in its basement, which 
was all that was left of it. For some reason no trucks or 
ambulances came back for the many wounded lying 
about. They grew uneasy for fear the enemy had taken 
that section again. The firing was farther off. That 
was all they could tell. It was morning when they had 
come to the field and they had been there a half a day. 
The ambulances should have made four or five trips. 

Evangeline wrote a message to Maudrey, wrapped 
and tied it to White Wing’s leg, and sent her forth. 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 143 

Hour after hour passed like millions of years. The sun 
went down and twilight began to gather; still no one 
came to their assistance. Presently they heard German 
voices out where the wounded were thickest. They drew 
the door up and fastened it, and peeped through a small 
hole. Sure enough there were two Huns in regular 
German uniform, and they were taking watches and 
rings from the dead and dying, sometimes cutting off 
finger and all. Then they pulled the clothing off 
of some of the American soldiers, and dressed them¬ 
selves in khaki uniforms, even to the helmet. Then 
the Huns started for the cellar. The nurses hid in 
the farthest corner behind some rubbish, trembling 
with fear. The Germans pulled hard on the door. 
Would it stand the test? The nervous strain was 
terrible. At that moment shots outside rang out 
again and there was the thud of something heavy. A 
shadow came across the one ray of light under the door¬ 
way. Something touched Evangeline on the shoulder 
and her blood nearly froze in her veins. ’Twas the 
carrier-pigeon coming to her basket on Evangeline’s 
shoulder. There was blood on her foot and only a tiny 
bit of paper and a mite of a string. She had a flesh 
wound in her leg. 

“Some Hun has shot my note to Maudrey off her leg, 
leaving only this much; there is not any writing on this. 
Or they have taken the note off and know our hiding 
place. He will never know we are in danger. What will 
we ever do?” she whispered in despair. 

She said no more, for they were at the door again, 
shaking, shaking, and mumbling. Then low, but dis¬ 
tinctly and clearly, 

“Evangeline?” 


144 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


“Oh! Maudrey! Maudrey!” and she rushed to the 
door and threw it open; then leaning her head on his 
broad shoulder, she wept for joy. 

“Here, cousin, this will never do. See what’s at our 
feet and more may come any minute. Let us make for 
Red Wing,” and stepping over the bodies of the Boches 
in khaki uniform they all three started on the run. 

When she was once up in the air, Evangeline gave a 
sigh of relief, saying, 

“This feels like going out of the bad world into 
heaven. No prince or Sir Gallahad will ever equal you, 
Maudrey, in my eyes after this. Did you kill the 
Huns?” 

“I had to, cousin. I would have rescued you two 
hours ago, but in flying about looking for a place to 
light, I saw that our people had the Huns on the run far 
from here; yet a small squad of Boches held the road 
through which the ambulances had to come. I got busy 
bombing them and at the same time keeping an eye out 
for enemy planes. I got all but those two who ran. I 
was nearly sure I saw the same ones on the battlefield, 
but they were too near the church ruins for me to bomb 
them. So I brought Red Wing down on the other side 
of the hill and slipped from stump to stump upon them. 
Got in sight again just as they were getting into our 
uniform. They were going to spy us out in khaki, they 
thought, and get back to their army unnoticed.” 

“You got my message then?” 

“Yes.” 

“And White Wing was not hurt when she came 
to you?” 

“No. Is she now?” 

“Yes, see here.” 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


145 


“Those cowardly Huns did that. When I started, 
1 wrote you that I was coming and fastened it to the 
pigeon so that if it found you first, it would give you 
some comfort; yet I never set her free until after I began 
bombing the Bodies.” 

“I'll dress her wound tonight, and give her more 
cotton for her bed. I have something she loves to 
eat, too.” 

“She’s some bird! As I got out of my plane, just 
before coming to you, I saw a little grove over to the 
right. It looked to be full of dead men. I investigated 
and found a company of Americans who had been 
relieved. They were worn out and had lost sleep, I know, 
for they had fallen asleep on the ground with the rain 
pouring down on them, right in their faces, and they 
never awoke. Those two Huns would have finished them 
while they slept.” 

Maudrey was nearing their hospital. 

“Tell them the ambulances can go now, as the road 
is opened up, and for some of our boys to get the watches 
and rings out of the pockets of the two dead Germans 
by the cellar door. Send for me always, cousin, and I 
pray the Lord that the carrier will not be killed. 
Goodbye,” and he kissed her fondly. 


CHAPTER XXIX 


“Into a ward of the white-washed walls 
Where the dead and dying lay. 

Wounded by bayonets, shells, and balls, 

Somebody’s darling was borne one day.” 

When the Americans and the British, with their 
tanks like great hideous beasts painted in weird colors, 
began breaking the Hindenburg line around Cambrai 
and St. Quentin, Evangeline was transferred to a 
hospital in that region. She was glad, for she was 
nearer Maudrey and he could come to see her more often 
in an auto, or in his plane. 

The first night he came she was sitting on the door¬ 
step of her ward, playing softly Hawaiian pieces on a 
guitar. He listened some time in the shadow, then said, 

“Hello. ’Tis the first time I have heard you play 
since we were on the lake at Leeland. Wish I had my 
saxophone. ’ ’ 

“My patients get quiet and go to sleep so much 
sooner.” 

“Here’s a letter from home,” and he sat down beside 
her in the doorway. Together they read it. 

“I’m glad all are well.” 

“But, cousin, I do not believe Muriel’s mother will 
ever be well, do you?” 

“I’m afraid not.” 

“Wish Muriel could be with us. She would be lots 
of company, would she not?” 

“She certainly would. How goes the war with you? 
We have not been rushed with wounded since Wednesday 
and Thursday.” 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


147 


‘ k I had quite a busy time a few days ago. A great lot 
of allied planes, including my own, were flying low over 
the German lines, throwing their troops into confusion, 
exciting to say the least. 

“The Crown Prince has been driven from the Marne, 
and the salient obliterated.” 

“I’m glad.” 

“Next to an airplane I’d rather be one of a crew in a 
tank, but like a ship, it makes you seasick sometimes. 
Ensign said the Germans put all the rifle and machine- 
gun fire upon them that they could muster, but they fell 
off like shot falling on a dishpan, did not harm them a bit. 
Wish you could look down upon them from the sky. 
They can go up and over the ruins of buildings.” 

“Do you ever hear of our Salvation Army folks who 
came over with us, two girls, an older woman, and two 
older men?” 

“Yes, they keep right up with the battle as close as 
they can get to the front. While bombing and banging 
go on overhead, down in their dugout you can see 
soldiers who have not had anything to eat for a day and 
night sitting around their fire, watching doughnuts sizzle 
in a sea of grease, while Salvation Nell and Nina are 
passing cups of steaming coffee among them. Sometimes 
the boys go off with doughnuts strung around their necks, 
or one or two on the end of their guns. ’Tis a saying of 
the soldiers, ‘They feed and care for us, stay by our side 
under fire and when wounded; and do not preach to us 
in words only but by kind deeds.’ They are just as high 
in their praises of the Red Cross. Where is your French 
teacher ? ’ ’ 

“In the great salvage factory. It gives employment 
to lots of French women. Old shoes are made over 


148 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


nearly as good as new. I know there are enough old 
shoes in the wardrobes of American homes to supply all 
the army, if they were over here to be redeemed. Mud- 
stained and bloodstained uniforms are run through some 
kind of solution to cleanse them from all ‘Germans’ as a 
child said once in speaking of germs. All are gone over 
and made fit to wear again.” 

“Say, I have a German helmet for you, a souvenir, 
one of those with a spike. I am getting up quite a 
collection. ” 

Just as Maudrey was leaving, the surgeon passed by. 
After he had met him, the latter said, 

“Your cousin is quite a favorite with the wounded, 
Mr. Legend. No one can care for them just as she does— 
reads and plays and sings for them; gives the convales¬ 
cents paper dolls to cut out and toys to make for refugee 
children she knows. Sometimes when she is dressing 
their wounds, she has a convalescent reading to the whole 
ward.” 

“Make the doctor your best bow, cousin. That is 
quite a compliment.” 

“Even the orderlies bob about at her bidding as the 
attendants of a queen.” 

“Does the surgeon, too?” suggested Maudrey with a 
twinkle in his eyes. 

“I would not doubt but that he does,” chuckled the 
surgeon, and with a wave of his hand he was off down 
the ward. 

Some time later, one dreary evening in the fall, Red 
Wing was waiting on the hospital grounds. 

“Evangeline,” said Maudrey, “it seems to me these 
dark, dismal nights in this lonesome place, with death 
staring you in the face, that God is a little absent- 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


149 


minded about His night nurses. He may be enough in 
the daytime, but He sure needs His night nurses and to 
be with them too.” 

“Be careful, Maudrey, how you speak of the 
Almighty. What could I do without Him night or day? 
When it is necessary, I often am on duty in the day, 
especially a part.” 

“How is the lieutenant that they brought in here 
Thursday from the dressing station with his head com¬ 
pletely covered with bandages? Is he dead?” 

“No, but how he lives no one can understand. There 
are several cuts on his head, his eyes are temporarily or 
permanently blind from lachrymatory gases; only his 
mouth and nose are left out in dressing his head. I let 
another nurse help the surgeon dress his wounds, and I 
helped in her ward instead. One arm is broken and 
there are bruises all over him, but the worst is an H. E. 
ball has gone through his lungs on the left side, ranging 
in deep, and is lodged in the upper lobe of his lung just 
above the heart; too close for an operation. Poor man, 
he suffers so terribly. He is some mother’s son and, no 
doubt, somebody’s sweetheart as well. I have tried to 
soothe and lighten the pain of each soldier as I know 
their loved ones would for each beloved.” 

“That you have, cousin, and lucky the poor dog who 
is ministered unto by you.” 

“‘Inasmuch as ye have done it unto the least of 
these ’—you know, Maudrey. Speaking of the lieutenant, 
it was all I could do to keep him on his cot last night. 
He raves of the battle, unconsciously of course, and of 
some one he calls ‘Dearest.’ He bleeds so it made me 
nearly faint to try to stanch the blood. All through the 
night, as soon as I would make him a little easy, he would 
say so gallantly and tenderly, ‘ Thank you, Dearest. ’ 


150 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


“The surgeon says there is no hope for him, but that 
makes me want to try the harder to ease him while life 
lasts. He has the most modulated, musical, beautiful 
voice. I can’t find the word to describe it. It is as if 
made patient and loving by suffering, like deep waters 
murmuring softly. Even his voice tells of refinement 
and culture, but dies as the roughest. I must go to him 
now, my time is up. The nurse who relieved me has to 
go back to her ward.” 

“All right, goodnight. I’ll drop in early in the morn¬ 
ing and be nurse while you sleep or go for some exercise. 
You look tired.” 

“Oh! do, I will be so glad.” 

All night long she sat by his cot. As day began to 
dawn, her patient talked unceasingly. She gently eased 
his position and arranged his bandages; as she did so, he 
said passionately, 

“Wounded? Yes, I’m wounded to the death, but 
look—all over the battlefield they crawl to me to dress 
their wounds—to speak peace to their souls!” rising on 
his pillow. “See—yonder one in white comes walking 
to me. He says, ‘Let me dress yours.’ I answer, ‘Oh! no 
your own hands are wounded—bleeding. So are your 
feet and side. I need to dress you. ’ 

“ ‘Wounds, you say?’ asked the one in white, and He 
bared His heart dripping red at every pore. ‘Comrade, 
you have already soothed mine in caring for my suffer¬ 
ing, innocent ones. ’ 

“Then I knew it was the Christ, Dearest, Christ 
in the trenches—the great Physician for body and soul. 
Has your heart dripped red, like mine, Dearest, from 
wounds, arrows?” and his voice became too weak even 
for a whisper, but with a last effort he held up his arm 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


151 


on which was his wrist-watch, and dropped dead—went 
West as soldiers say. She tenderly placed him straight 
and folded his hands across his breast—free from pain at 
last. Then she wept as women weep. 

A message must be sent to some one. There must be 
papers somewhere. Reverently she removed the watch 
and opened it. A picture fell out, face downward. On 
it was written a California address and the name— 
Leolaine Leigh—in the old familiar hand. Turning it 
over as in a dream she beheld her own image reflected 
from the picture. Written across it, “I have loved you 
always, and will love you forever. ’ ’ 

True to his promise Maudrey came just as the sun 
was up. All was as still as death in the ward. Ventur¬ 
ing a little closer he saw Evangeline across the cot 
unconscious, the watch just under her hand, and the 
picture near to it. 

When she came to herself, she was lying on an army- 
blanket under a little tree near the hospital, and Maudrey 
was bathing her face in cold water. 

“Oh! Maudrey, have they buried him?” 

“No, cousin, not yet.” 

“Then let me go see him once more,” and she tried 
to rise. 

“No, no, lie still, and if you are sure you will not 
swoon away again, I will go see for you, and return and 
take you to see him.” 

After a little while he returned. 

“Cousin, can you control yourself now perfectly?” 

“I think I can, Maudrey.” 

“Be right sure, for it’s going to take a lot of back¬ 
bone to go in there again. Sit up a little bit and see how 
steady your head is; then I will help you to your feet. 
Think you are a whole woman again ? ’ ’ 


152 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


“Yes, I can do very well.” 

“Then I want to tell you something before you go. 
He is still breathing. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ I must go then. ’’ 

“Calmly, cousin, the morphine died within him and 
left him completely exhausted. He may go West any 
minute.” 

“But while there is any life, there is a little hope.” 

“Let me take your arm and we will go in now. The 
surgeon found the picture just after I carried you out 
in the open air. He is very much interested, and said if 
we could keep him alive until he could get him to England 
to the king’s surgeon, there might be the slightest chance 
of life, but his eyes—” 

“Oh! Is he blind? So beautiful once.” 

“That is to be tested in a day or two, if he lives, when 
he is strong enough to have the bandages removed. He 
is not apt to see. Let us not hope too much. You must 
show yourself the best soldier around and help us pull 
him through if we can. ’ ’ 

For days Leon lay in a stupor, calling only for water 
now and then. He had never been conscious since he 
came to the hospital. His head had been knocked up so 
badly. Evangeline gave him every comfort and atten¬ 
tion—devotion itself, but spoke not a word, for fear of 
her voice betraying her. He groaned in his sleep, such 
pitiful sounds, and tossed about, opening his wounds 
afresh. 

“Has your heart dripped red, like mine, Dearest?” 
was ever the refrain in her brain as she stanched the 
crimson flow of his fleshly heart, and thought of the pain 
in his spirit one. 


CHAPTER XXX 


“So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war, 

There never was knight like the young Lochinvar!” 

“There’s a call for you outside, nurse,” said an 
orderly. 

Evangeline found Maudrey waiting in a car with the 
engine running. 

“Here is something for tomorrow when you remove 
the bandages from Leigh’s eyes.” 

“Oh! hothouse roses! Where did you get them?” 

“In Paris; just got back. Place them by his cot, 
except this red one in your hair, and the long stemmed 
one on your dress. The occasion deserves a little decora¬ 
tion, I thought. Why, you are in a new uniform today. 
Put your flowers on and let me see how they do. Fine! 
You can wear them today and tomorrow too.” 

“How fresh and sweet in a place like this! I will 
wear them so the patients can see and whiff their 
fragrance. Thank you so much. ’Twas thoughtful 
of you.” 

“Don’t mention it.” 

“Can’t you come in?” 

“No, I’m on duty this afternoon. I’ll be on hand 
tomorrow to keep you from toppling over. So long. 
Au revoir.” 

The flowers set Evangeline to thinking. She would 
gather up something for drapery and curtain off Leon’s 
cot into a nice little room, and decorate it with flowers, 
pictures, and autumn leaves. She was busy at it when 
the surgeon came in. 


154 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


“How is our patient, nurse?” 

“Slept well and did not groan in the night.” 

“And is still sleeping, I see. So much the better. 
Do not wake him for medicine. If he lives, he will owe 
his life to you and your devotion to him. ‘A stranger 
and ye took me in.’ Proved to be an angel unawares 
again, eh? In all your nursing I never knew you to faint 
before. He certainly did give you a shock. Thought 
you would never gain consciousness again. Do not set 
your heart too much on his not being blind. If he sees 
at all, it will be a miracle after all that gas in his eyes.” 

For quite a while after the surgeon passed on 
Evangeline was happy at her work, hoping against hope 
for a little vision of her room on the morrow. Completed 
in every detail at last she sat down by the side of the cot 
to crush some tablets. Something caused her to look up 
presently—and with a smothered exclamation she 
dropped the powders, clutched at her throat with one 
hand, and with the other held to the cot for support. 
Her patient had pushed up the bandages from his eyes 
with his good arm—and was silently watching her, she 
knew not how long. 

“I’m sorry I scared you, nurse,” he said in a weak, 
apologetical voice. “I could not help but hear what the 
doctor said and grew curious to know if I could see, too. 
I have been trying to find out, or think out, what brought 
me here and to prove to myself that what I see is real 
and not camouflage.” 

“Do you really see?” and she felt of her forehead to 
find, if she could, whether she was dreaming or fainting; 
because the same soft brown eyes were before her. “I 
thank God, even if he can’t see, that they are not marred 
or disfigured in appearance,” she was thinking. 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 155 

‘‘What color is this rose?” she asked, to prove he 
could see and to find if he was conscious. 

“Red, nurse, and so fragrant.” 

“Does it tire you to talk?” and she felt she would 
faint in spite of herself. 

“No.” 

“I would not talk much; it might make your fever 
rise.” 

“I gave one reason why I wanted to see. The other 
one was I heard a voice that I had not heard for years, 
and I wanted to convince myself, Mrs. Gill, that you 
were an overseas nurse. In what regiment is Captain 
Gill?” 

“I do not know. I’m not Mrs. Gill,” and she 
arranged his bandages to hide her confusion. 

“Your hands tremble so, nurse. Not Mrs. Gill, who 
used to be Miss Margaret Evangeline Lee of Leeland in 
old Virginia?” disappointedly. 

“Miss Lee of Leeland, but never Mrs. Gill,” she 
almost whispered. 

He was quiet a while, his great, wonderful eyes feast¬ 
ing upon her, collecting memories and sorting them out. 
Tiny cupids, flying on cardinals, seemed to be hurrying 
from the depths of his soul through the gateway of those 
eyes, fluttering about her head, shooting arrows into her 
heart, and burning her cheeks as they did so. She could 
not look into them, and began crushing another tablet, all 
the while praying to herself, “Father, I thank Thee for 
one more glimpse of the love-light in those eyes, even if 
he never rises from that cot.” 

“Am I to believe it has been all these years, and is 

still Miss Lee ? ’ ’ 

She nodded with her face near the rose. 


v 


156 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


“Neither have I ever married,” he added. 

“Let me go see the surgeon if you may talk.” 

“You need see no surgeon about my talking. I most 
assuredly am going to talk as long as I have breath—no 
impoliteness to you—but what other joy is there left me ? 
Had I expressed myself years ago, there would have 
been less unhappiness. I was proud then. One gets 
humbled over here. Were you going to run away from 
me as you did in the long ago?” asked he passionately. 

She sat down all in a tremble. To think how helpless 
he was! Tears filled her eyes, and a drop or two fell on 
the cot. 

“There, there I’m sorry,” and with his good hand 
he took hers. Each could not speak for a while. 

“In all the after years I stayed away because I 
thought you loved and married Captain Gill.” 

“I read of your death way before the war,” gently. 

“Mine? Let me see. Oh! my uncle in Hawaii who 
had the same name—and you never married!” 

There was a long pause; then he said, 

“What time is it? Please open my watch for me.” 

She snatched a surprised glance at his face and 
opened it. 

“Do you see who has been with me through thick and 
thin, and the message? Do me a favor—just one. Look 
into my eyes and see if they are injured.” 

Evangeline had rather face any barrage on the whole 
Hindenburg line than the light in those eyes just then. 
She tried to look through the eyes of a nurse, but failed 
completely. Her lashes fell. 

“God bless you, Dearest. I count all my wounds as 
nothing to be able to see what I read there; and death has 
no pangs now. Dearest, I love you with all my soul. 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 157 

You do love me, do you not? Please let me hear you 
say it.” 

“I—love—you.” 

“Thank you,” and he grasped the hand in his so 
very tightly. 

She drew a locket from her bosom, opened it, and 
placed it beside the watch; his own picture looked out 
upon him, and written across it, “My Leolaine.” 

Tears filled her eyes. The rose on her bosom rose and 
fell like the tide of the ocean. 

He drew her hand to his lips and kissed it over and 
over. 

“Beautiful service hands to an old wreck of a body 
like mine.” 

“The dearer to me because of its wounds and 
suffering. ’ ’ 

“Thank you, Dearest.” 

He took from his watch the pressed petal of a 
water-lily. 

“That night on the lake at the house party my heart 
claimed you for its own, but I was too timid to ask, for 
fear of being denied. Just thought you wrote to me for 
politeness. There was always a sensitiveness on my part, 
that you did not deem me worthy of you, because you 
did not correspond with me when I first asked your leave. 
When you sent all my letters back and had treasured 
each tiny note, I began to have hope. Afterward I came 
with a message, but you kept me at a distance. As a last 
resort to know if I might venture, I called for ‘ That Old 
Sweetheart of Mine’ from the Jap, so I might read your 
eyes, but you left the room.” 

“I left because you had told me one time that you 
did not want to falsely impress me; that you could never 
be more than a friend.” 


158 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


“I thought you loved the Bethany schoolmate when 
I saw him put an engagement ring on your finger; and 
you refused my company to go with him. I wanted to 
give you your freedom first, for I could not hear you tell 
me you loved him.” 

“I could not break a promise to go with him when 
your note came after we had already started to the 
lecture, though in my heart I longed to go with you; and 
it was only the wedding-ring of my roommate, his bride- 
to-be, I was trying on. You had made no engagement 
to call upon me when you accompanied the Jap. You 
were only out in the interest of the church.’’ 

“I was afraid you would refuse me if I asked to call, 
and I wanted to talk to you a long, long time. I could 
not write my love in a letter, for I had tried and torn 
up six or eight. Thought you would pardon my not 
writing when you knew the reason. I was sometimes 
sure you loved Captain Gill, that that was why you sent 
back the letters, and I wanted to come and find out 
before expressing my love. When you kept me at such 
a distance, I was sure of it. Decided it was unpleasant 
to you to have me near; therefore, stayed away, though 
I could not forget you. Foolish children, both of us. 
Each loved the other and was afraid to let it be known. 
We have paid dearly to find it out.” 

“You are getting weak. Would it not be best to 
rest an hour or two and talk again?” pleadingly. 

“There is nothing like the present. When I can’t 
live, do not deny me my vision and speech what time 
life is mine. I thank God for this hour; do not take it 
from me.” 

“You will try to live for—for—my sake,” timidly. 

“Me? This wreck? I was once a man. I can not 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


159 


live. I am surgeon enough to know that. Could I live, 
1 would never at best be but a helpless invalid. I would 
not burden you; I love you too much for that. To love 
each other what time I live is all I can hope for, and that 
is more than I ever expected for years now. I do so 
thank God for you. ’Way over seas here we meet.” 

“You a burden? Does a mother ever think her help¬ 
less child a burden? Now that we know what we are to 
eaeh other, I have been praying God to help us keep you 
until we can get you to England to the king’s surgeon 
Tuesday night. The skill of the best shall be yours.” 

“‘Love is stronger than death.’ God alone knows 
the love of a good woman,” and his eyes showed his 
gratitude, then filled with tears. “I’ll do my best to be 
all the man I can again. ’ ’ 

“Then won’t you rest and sleep a little now?” said 
she, giving him his medicine, patting up his pillows, 
and making him as comfortable as she could. “I’ll not 
leave you, but sit in the doorway and play the guitar 
until you go to sleep and dream you are on the lake. ’ ’ 

“I just can’t go to sleep for fear something happens 
and I can’t tell you over and over I love you; but I’ll 
rest from talking if you will play and sing, ‘Till We Meet 
Again,’ the one that has, ‘Every tear will be a memory,’ 
and ‘The Rosary.’ Then I can talk again, can’t I, 
nurse ? ’ ’ 

“I expect so,” and she smiled. 

Leon thought a sunbeam had suddenly burst in 
upon him. 

‘ ‘ Thank you, Dearest. ’ ’ 

He was working at the leather part of his watch- 
guard; he looked up smiling and said, 

‘ ‘ Please get that out for me. ’ ’ 


160 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


She took it out and gave it to him. It was a beautiful 
diamond ring. 

“I brought that when I came with the Jap. May I 
put it on your finger?” 

She held out her hand. He put it on and pressed it 
to his lips a moment, then released her hand. 

“Thank you. I do not think I ever saw one prettier 
than this,” and there was a beautiful light in Evange¬ 
line’s eyes. 

“I’ll try to be quiet now a while,” he said. 

Presently from the doorway there floated through the 
walls of the ward, soft and low, 

“The hours I spent with thee, dear heart, 

Are as a string of pearls to me. 

I count them o’er, each one apart, 

My rosary, my rosary.” 

When the singer tiptoed to Leon’s cot later, he was 
sleeping. 


CHAPTER XXXI 


"There is no shining without suffering." 

“Why, cousin, what has happened? There is a 
regular halo of brightness about your head,” exclaimed 
Maudrey on his arrival next day. “What’s that on your 
finger?” 

She told him the news. “He woke up in the night 
again and talked a long time; went to sleep at one and 
slept well. I believe he is awake now.” 

“Hello, Leigh. They tell me you have been spying on 
them. Use your optics on me and see if you recognize an 
old acquaintance,” said Maudrey, a little in advance of 
Evangeline and the surgeon. 

“Why, yes, I do, Legend, though you look different 
in the garb of an aviator. How is it the Hun has let 
you go so long?” 

“They used all their ammunition on you.” 

“Bring the medicine-case, nurse, and we will dress 
his head, and I will get your cousin to help me with his 
side. His temperature is fine,” said the surgeon. 

“How’s his heart?” asked Maudrey with a wink at 
the doctor and a side glance, first at Leigh, then at 
Evangeline. The latter blushed, and the former said 
with a smile, 

“Much better, thank you.” 

“I know it, old fellow, for I’ve been all along the 
line. Muriel and I are in the same box, are we not, 
cousin ? ’ ’ 

“Yes.” 

“Congratulations, Legend. Is she over here?” 


162 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


“No, but I wish she was. I can’t get wounded until 
she gets here to pet and doctor me. She is a nurse, too,” 
informed the young man significantly. “How is it, 
Leigh, you were a minister, yet you wear a surgeon’s—a 
lieutenant’s—uniform, and have the wounds of a private 
soldier?” 

“I was a minister, studied medicine to become a 
foreign missionary, and came to France as a doctor to 
soul and body. The body came first here, as the Huns 
were filling it full of wounds. While I cared for the 
wounded in little dressing stations close to the firing- 
line, with shot and shell flying all about me, I heard the 
soldiers criticize the Y. M. C. A. workers and ministers 
because they stayed ’way off from danger, drinking tea 
in swell joints, riding in expensive autos, and having 
comfortable billets in war time. They did not like their 
preaching. 

“When I saw my comrades come back wounded from 
that Calvary of the trenches and again facing it with so 
much courage and unselfishness, I decided that the most 
eloquent sermon that I could deliver would seem little 
compared to service side by side with them and a well- 
chosen word for their souls. 

“I was first wounded in one of the biggest battles of 
the war, September 29. The cannister of my gas-mask 
saved my life. While I attended the wounded in a little 
dressing station, I was hurt by a large piece of shrapnel 
knocking me down and bruising my right chest. The 
Major came up and said I was too weak to be up front 
that day and I should go to the rear. I did not go, for 
while we talked, the Boches poured onto us and it was 
fight, be killed, or captured. I’d rather be dead than in 
Boche hands. Soon the command was given, 


Evangeline op Ole Virginia 


163 


‘‘‘Over the top! Charge bayonet, double time!’ 
and with that yelling bunch I went. I had not gone far 
until a Captain, one of my best friends, fell, as well as 
hundreds of other friends. I soon forgot my profession 
and turned to be a soldier. We covered the ground for 
six and one half miles with dead Boches, and went far 
beyond our objective, releasing several towns. I did 
things that day, as it came to hand-to-hand fighting, that 
I never dreamed I could do; nor ever want to be pressed 
to do again. The Cambrai-St. Quentin tunnel held one 
hundred thousand reserves. We took it, some over the 
top with tanks and air-planes, and some through it.” 

“Leigh, I was in one of the planes,” exlaimed 
Maudrey, “and there is quite a town on top over the 
tunnel.” 

“Yes, Hindenburg himself went up through a secret 
passage into a church on top and got away. We found 
one room in the tunnel where the Germans were cutting 
up their dead and rendering them into fats and glycerine. 
Would never have believed it, if I had not seen it with 
my own eyes, as did thousands of others; and, too, the 
movie-men were taking pictures of it. 

“From there we were sent to another front for 
another rush. The fighting was terrible, and the 
wounded kept pouring in. About four in the afternoon 
the machine-gun bullets fell around me like hail. We 
looked everywhere, but could not tell the direction from 
which they were coming until Major Morris of R. A. 
M. C. spied an airplane above and told me to put my 
glasses upon it. I immediately saw a black cross and 
knew it was an enemy plane. While I watched its move¬ 
ments, I fell seriously wounded, A high explosive shell 
exploded at my feet from the plane directing German 


164 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


artillery lire. The Major’s head was blown off com¬ 
pletely, three more blown up and killed, and ten of us 
seriously wounded. I never will forget the sight if I 
live a million years. That is where the H. E. ball hit 
me in the left side, ranging in deep, and lodging in the 
upper lobe of the lung just above my heart. Here I was 
hit by large pieces of spent shrapnel that did this other 
work on my body. I had barely enough sense left to 
crawl into a hole out of the fire sweeping the ground. 
My sergeant ran to me and held me in a sitting position, 
as I could not breathe lying down. He held me with his 
left hand and operated the captured Boche machine-gun 
with his right hand. I cannot remember it, but they told 
me that before fainting I raised directly up and emptied 
my pistol at the Bodies as they started at us over the 
top. Two of my men then dragged me into a shell-hole 
out of direct fire, but they made it so hot for us that they 
crawled and dragged me into a deeper hole better pro¬ 
tected. I soon came to, but was perfectly helpless, as 
my left arm and side were limp, and before I could get 
a new cannister for my mask, was gassed. I could not be 
carried off the field until it let up a little. When the 
barrage began to lift, four stretcher-bearers started with 
me to the rear. I had been carried but a very short 
distance when the bunch yelled out at me, 

“‘We’ll make the Boche pay dear for your wounds, 
Lieutenant! ’ and with that they went over the top like 
a machine. I have never seen bayonets shine in the sun 
as theirs did. I told the bearers to stop and lift me up, 
for, honestly, I thought it would be the last charge I 
would see on this earth. I was sure I was dying then. 
Our men fought like demons, and I soon saw the shining 
bayonets painted a bright red with the blood of the 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 165 

Bodies falling everywhere. I again fell unconscious and 
when I came to, was in a culvert under a road, where I 
was carried out of the artillery fire, as it had opened up 
again. I thought I would freeze and bleed to death 
waiting for dark to come so I could be carried to an 
ambulance. When real dark, I was put in one and 
started for the main dressing-station thirty miles in the 
rear. I thought the jar would kill me, as I was suffering 
so. There they bound my head and dressed my wounds, 
and I knew no more until I awoke here, as you know. 
I suppose they sent me to this hospital.” 

“They certainly used you for a target, Leigh. You 
have some nerve, I must say. Does it not tire you and 
pain you to talk?” asked Maudrey. 

“I can’t tell the pain is any more, and it does not 
tire me so very much; but to move my body, or certain 
positions I get into, I suffer so I get right sick and 
nearly faint.” 

“The dressings for his side are all ready, doctor.” 

“Thank you, nurse, we will excuse you now.” 

When they were through and Leon had rested a 
while, he said, 

“May I speak one minute alone with you, Legend?” 

“Certainly, old boy.” 

“Where is the nearest chaplain?” 

“Over at a Y. M. C. A. dugout toward La Fere.” 

“Would it be asking too much for you to bring 
him tomorrow night and be present and witness our 
wedding?” 

“By all means I’ll sail him over. It has never been 
the custom for a bridegroom to marry in his pajamas, 
Leigh, even though the pink and blue ones we just have 
put on you are pretty enough. What shall I bring you 
for a wedding suit?” 


166 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


A smile played over the bridegroom’s features, then 
faded. 

“What could I wear, chained to this cot? My uni¬ 
form is matted with blood. You can’t imagine how it 
humiliates me to tie your cousin to a wreck like I am— 
a dying man.” 

“Never mind, old fellow, I’ve known for years she 
loved you, but she would never let me hint it; yet it ate 
deep into her heart. You are a lucky man for such a 
woman’s love, Leigh.” 

“I know it. God knows how I would love to live and 
be a half a man again when life is so sweet. I want to 
get married and want her to be my own for even an hour. 
She wants to wear my name, and I want it so that when 
I die, which I will do in a few days, my wife will have 
what I have earned with my life’s blood. Here are all 
my papers. Please see to them for me and for her.” 

“It will be a pleasure for me to carry out your wishes. 
I’ll find a lieutenant’s new uniform for your wedding 
suit it I have to lay it upon you.” 

“Has the cut in my cheek healed enough for you to 
shave me?” 

“I think it has; can shave to it and around it anyway. 
I’ll bring my shaving outfit tomorrow and come in time 
to do it.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Is there anything else?” 

“No, thank you.” 


CHAPTER XXXII 


“Leave no tender word unsaid— 

Love while love shall last. 

The mill cannot grind 
With the water that is past.” 

The whole ward was decorated for the wedding. 
Some of the curtains around Leigh’s cot were removed 
so that the patients might see. The bride had her 
wedding-dress ready, the dress she had had made to wear 
as maid of honor at Maudrey’s marriage. A little 
wedding march was to be played by one of the orderlies 
as Maudrey brought Evangeline in and seated her by 
Leon’s cot. She had not been in the ward much that 
morning so that Leon would rest before they began to 
get him ready. 

’Twas time for Maudrey. She went to the doorway 
and looked up into the bright blue heaven. Not a great 
way off a plane was coming, so she went to get warm 
water for the shave; then she was to dress while he fitted 
out Leon, and let him rest a bit afterward. Accompany¬ 
ing the distinctly whirring sound of the plane there was 
an explosion, another, and another, then a crash. 

“ Oh ! heavens! ’ ’ 

It dawned upon her that the hospital was being 
bombed. She rushed to the wheel-chair, threw it into 
reclining position, and with the help of two orderlies and 
some convalescents she lifted Leon, mattress and all, on 
to the chair and piled him with blankets. Leaving direc¬ 
tions for the other helpless ones to be cared for, and 
with nerves at the highest pitch she wheeled him into 
a dugout some distance from the hospital. The jar was 
all he could stand, but there was no remedy. 


168 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


“Can I make you more comfortable in any way?” 
she said. 

“My head a little higher, please, and a pillow under 
my side. There, that will do. Are you going to leave 
me now?” 

“No, I’m going to stay with you. I can’t get back 
to the hospital anyway; our whole wing is gone,” and 
from the dugout door, through her field-glasses, she 
searched the blue above. 

“I see two enemy planes and a third plane coming 
toward them. ’Tis Red Wing. Maudrey is drawing 
their attention to save the hospital. There’s a fight in 
the air, looping and turning and curving—one is going 
down in flames; but it is not Red Wing. Bravo, 
Maudrey! He has put the other to flight; but Red Wing 
acts queerly—poor thing! She is crippled, half flying, 
half falling!” Evangeline ran forward as if to catch 
Maudrey in her arms. There was the crashing of timber 
as his plane caught in a tree, and he and the chaplain 
were held between the motor and the body of the tree 
in a bad wreck. The firing from the German plane began 
again; it had returned. 

A shell exploded, finishing the rest of Red Wing 
and blowing the chaplain into the air, while Maudrey 
was freed and fell heavily to the ground. 

How Evangeline got to the hospital and back with a 
stretcher and four convalescents no one ever knew. They 
placed Maudrey upon it and were on their way to the 
dugout when another shell exploded, not a great distance 
off, and knocked down stretcher-bearers and all, nor did 
a one of them move again. Leon called and called, but 
no answer came. He tried to rise and could not; with a 
sick dizziness of pain he fell back. In despair he repeated 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


169 


their names, but to no avail. He could just see Evange¬ 
line—laying so white and still with her hair unbound 
and floating in the breeze all about her. There was a 
whir in the air, and he was afraid to look; but he did 
look and saw White Wings, the carrier-pigeon, light on 
Evangeline’s shoulder and walk up and down her body, 
but there was no sign of life. He whistled to the carrier 
as he had heard her do. It came and lit on his chair. 

“Oh! for a bit of scrap paper as big as my thumb, 
and a tiny pencil—my kingdom for it!” 

He thought and thought while he held the bird fast. 
Finally he got his watch open, and tore off the bottom 
of her picture—his altar shrine for years; held the 
pigeon’s wing close, so it would not hurt, and with his 
teeth pulled a feather from its wing. Then he dipped 
the feather in the blood from his own side, and wrote 
for help, fastening it to the pigeon’s leg with a string 
from the bandage on his arm; he sent it forth. The 
bombing had ceased. 

After, it seemed, years of waiting the carrier 
returned, and tried to get into her basket on Evange¬ 
line’s shoulder. 

Leon sick at heart and in body whistled to it and it 
came again to him. His note was gone, but no note in 
return. When hope of assistance was dead, he heard 
something coming, rumbling, and not long alter could 
see an ambulance in the distance: 

“What can we do for you?” asked one of the order¬ 
lies as they drew near. 

“See if any are alive in that group yonder.” 

“The chaplain’s dead, so are the stretcher-bearers. 
The aviator is woefully mangled, but I believe he 
breathes. There is blood all over the nurse’s white 


170 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


uniform, and an arm is broken I’m sure. She looks like 
an angel and I believe she is one, for I see no signs of 
life. What a pretty nurse she is!” 

“The aviator was bringing the chaplain to marry the 
nurse and me. Please carry her and the aviator here to 
me and bathe each face in cold water and bind up their 
wounds. You will find bandages and remedies in the 
nurse’s case here.” 

The orderlies spread an army blanket near Leigh 
and on it placed the two. How he did long to be able 
to minister to her with his own hands, but the orderly 
that did care for her was a nice young fellow and did 
all he could. All at once Leon saw him lean his ear to 
her mouth, then put his hand over her heart. 

“Say, bridegroom, there is a small heart-beat. What 
must I give her?” exclaimed the orderly. 

“Here! a hypodermic!” 

When it had been given, he told the orderly of the 
train on which the surgeon had planned to send him to 
the coast to make connection with the hospital-ship bound 
for England that night. 

“Get your ambulance ready and take us all three. 
We will have to hurry to make it.” 

When real dark, with lights out, the ship started, 
expecting a “sub” any minute, though the passengers 
cared very little, as they were nearly dead anyway, and 
some knew nothing of it at all. 

It arrived at nine the next night, and on its way back, 
a “sub" destroyed the ship and all its crew and nurses. 
Such is fate. But the helpless ones it had landed into 
England got every attention possible. Since ladies were 
not allowed in the king’s hospital, Princess Mary, who 
spent a great deal of her time there, had a temporary 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


171 


room arranged on a wing near the nurses’ rooms for 
Evangeline, whose left arm was broken between elbow 
and wrist and her ankle sprained; but the worst for her 
was the shock. Soon as her arm began to heal, she took 
the “flu,” and came very near having fever. 

Maudrey was unconscious three days. His skull was 
fractured in one place and the bone bearing on the 
brain; when that was relieved, he began to know. One 
hand was crushed badly and one leg broken, and he was 
bruised all over. 

Leigh had no new wounds and needed none, for his 
case was beyond any surgeon, even the king’s. 

Legend’s and Leigh’s cots were side by side and they 
were ever sending flowers and messages to Evangeline. 


CHAPTER XXXIII 


“Rest ye in peace, ye Flanders dead! 

The fight that ye so bravely led, 

We’ve taken up, and we will keep 
True faith with ye who lie asleep. 

Think not that ye have died for naught. 

The torch ye threw to us we caught. 

Ten million hands will hold it high 
And freedom’s light shall never die. 

So rest in peace while poppies blow 
In Flanders fields.” 

One day, a month after they came to England, the 
two were surprised to see Evangeline walking down the 
aisle of their ward with her arm in a sling. 

“IIow pale she is,” said Maudrey. 

“I’m so glad to see you up again,” and Leigh’s eyes 
were like morning stars. “How are you?” 

“My arm gives me a little trouble yet, but I’m happy 
it’s no worse. I’m weak, but doing very nicely, thank 
you,” and she sat between their cots on a chair a nurse 
brought her. “How are you, Maudrey?” 

“Well, one leg is shorter by an inch or so than the 
other; but I am delighted that Leigh and I do not have 
to hear the thump, thump of wooden legs the rest of our 
lives. Am minus three fingers—they would have taken 
my whole hand off if Leigh had not told them how to 
treat it. Am glad again no icy machine arm will encircle 
the ladies when I dance with them, and while one eye 
will never see as good as the other, no glass eye will be 
scaring my wife to death on some dresser or table. Hate 
most of all the loss of my Red Wing.” 

“You are as comforting as ‘Mrs. Wiggs of the Cab- 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 173 

bage Patch, said she, straightening the covers on him 
and patting up Leon’s pillows. 

“What does the doctor say of you?” 

“As surgeon to surgeon, he told me he would not 
deceive me, that I would have to wear my souvenir of the 
Hun the rest of my life, as it was too near my heart for 
an operation; being above my heart it may eat into it 
any way. He wants me to go to some Southern resort in 
France and recuperate; then if some United States 
surgeon will do the deed, I could try there when I am 
stronger. I would love to go to Switzerland, but it’s too 
high. The doctor said my lungs would bleed, and in low 
latitudes I would have to be careful of myself for a year 
on that account. My left shoulder is two inches lower 
than the other, due to my giving in to the pain.” 

“No better soldier for standing pain I ever knew, or 
ever will know. You are a wonder to gain the place 
you have,” said Evangeline gallantly. 

“I think I’m not mistaken in my French doctor 
saying that if I ever lived, I owed my life to a certain 
Red Cross nurse,” answered Leon, though his eyes 
tendered the gratitude he felt. “Also the dugout she 
took me to when the hospital was bombed, and the prayers 
she offered in my behalf. ’Twas through her, too, I 
gained the care of the king’s surgeon, who is fine, but 
his son, the younger doctor I like better. He recom¬ 
mends Nice, one of the southern towns of France, along 
the Riviera, for me to spend the winter. Leaving all 
these fogs and snows behind, he says I can sit outside all 
the time in the warm sunshine under a bright blue sky 
with clear air. I can get rooms where I can lie in bed 
and look out on the beach and the sea, and see guests 
bathing in the blue waters, and still farther on in the 


174 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


distance the Alps covered with snow. The pure sea air, 
laden with the fragrance of orange blossoms and other 
flowers, is fine to heal lungs, he says, and all nations 
of Europe gather there to find health and amuse 
themselves.” 

“Fine place for honeymoons,” said Maudrey 
significantly. “You two will surely wait for me until 
Muriel gets here. Let’s have a double wedding. Don't 
leave a poor fellow out in the cold. She ought to be half 
way here now from her cablegram.” 

“We will try not to be so impolite, if you will hurry 
up the ship,” responded Leigh. “We owe him some¬ 
thing for letting him get wounded, and the loss of Red 
Wing, trying to get us married, do we not,— ?” 

“Say it. Finish it up. I know it was ‘Dearest’ and 
a pretty name for cousin. Do not mind me. Guess I’ll 
call Muriel ‘sweetheart,’ ‘yellow-top’ or ‘Goldilocks.’ It 
will never do to have two ‘dearests.’ Since her mother’s 
death do you suppose she will dress in black, cousin? 
I wanted a white wedding.” 

“No, she is going to wear white for mourning she 
wrote me.” 

For three afternoons Evangeline read to the two, and 
they were allowed to sit up in bed. Her engagement with 
them Sunday was not till two o’clock, so, wrapped in her 
big army cape, she took White Wings out to enjoy the 
open air. ’Twas her first trip outside since she came to 
England. Presently a nurse called to her and said she 
had two visitors. She entered the ward where the 
alcove was. 

There stood two soldiers saluting. One, in American 
uniform, with his arm in a sling and a tiny bandage 
around his head, was leaning against a reclining chair. 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


175 


The other one, in Australian uniform, stood more erect 
and had a scar on his forehead. Both were smiling. 

“How do we pass, cousin? I feel like a country lad 
who went in swimming and some one stole his clothes. 
My own uniform is torn into rags. I had to appear in a 
comrade’s rig, and I do not feel at home. Lieutenant 
Leon Leigh was more fortunate in having the wedding 
suit I brought him,” with a flourish of his hand toward 
the latter. 

She stood looking with surprise and joy first at one, 
then the other, from head to foot. Finally her eyes 
rested on Leigh alone, and they were touched by a love- 
light there was no mistaking, while from his own long- 
lashed lids answered back an adoring caress. 

‘‘ What shall I read to you this afternoon ? ’ ’ 

“Nothing at all. There’s going to be a communion 
service, all to your lonesomes, in this quiet alcove the rest 
of this afternoon. I’ve been ‘Three’s a crowd’ long 
enough. They won’t let Leigh out yet, but I go for my 
first trip downtown in a car. Perhaps I’ll find when my 
ship comes in. So long,” and he hobbled away. 

Evangeline helped Leon into his chair. He slided 
slowly and carefully into it; and half reclined and half 
sat up. 

“Thank you. ’Tis more quiet than the day the 
armistice was signed. London certainly went wild that 
day. When I woke up, they were yelling everywhere 
the news. I thought your cousin would dance on one 
foot, and I was just as happy. Bring your chair opposite 
and we will enjoy the hours together.” 

Once, leaning back, she clasped her hands behind her 
head, and looked away into the blue sky, dreaming. 

“What is it, Dearest?” after he had been silently 
watching her for quite a while. 


176 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


“I was just thinking of the victorious American 
troops soon going home, and how much I would love to 
see my cardinals in the pines at home, at Leeland in old 
Virginia—see them flash in and out like rockets of 
scarlet, calling, ‘Peace—Peace—Peace!’ I never half 
knew then what their call meant, but I do now. So do 
thousands. It seems that there is nothing sweeter than 
that—the homely toil of the farmer in the clear morning 
air, singing and talking to Mr. Hoptoad as he turns the 
fresh furrows with his plow-point. The bees hum, 
children sing, nobody is afraid. Over it all the cardinal 
flits so delightedly with ‘Peace—Peace—Peace.’ And I 
was also thinking of Mammy when she said, ‘Honey, may 
yo’ nebbah lib tuh see uh wall.’ ” She never said that she 
was thinking too, “‘He come sum day an’ not on’y lies 
eyes but hes mouf will ’spressify lies lub, bof made 
puffec’ tru suffahin'.” 

“Are you homesick, Dearest? Do you long for Vir¬ 
ginia so much that you will not enjoy our winter in 
Southern France?” anxiously. 

‘ ‘ Oh! no, I’m looking forward with great pleasure 
to our visit in that beautiful place, where you can get 
strong again. That’s—our—our—” she paused over the 
last words, but he uttered them with a depth of feeling, 

“Our long delayed bridal-trip—honeymoon, as your 
cousin would say. God grant that we realize it.” 


CHAPTER XXXIV 


“But deep in a walled-up woman’s heart— 

Of woman that would not yield, 

But bravely, silently bore her part— 

Lo! there is that battlefield! 

“Oh! spotless woman in a world of shame, 

With splendid and silent scorn, 

Go back to God as white as you came, 

The kingliest warrior born.” 

Legend and Leigh had about two hours to wait for 
Evangeline. Then all three were going sight-seeing in 
London and out. The two were trying to entertain 
themselves until she came. 

“Oh! boy, to be at home again in Virginia, with our 
wives on the lake at twilight, and eat our suppers there.” 

“Don’t, Legend, you will make me homesick myself. 
That brings up another subject. I’ve been wondering 
how I could best serve my country when I go back. We 
have learned here that life is service. I could still doctor 
in a hospital and my wife (proudly) assist me in nursing. 
Do you think she would like that?” 

“Why, Evangeline will do whatever you like.” 

“No, I mean what would she love best?” 

“To tell you, candidly, she is quite a home body, and 
nothing will please her more than to be queen of Leeland 
in good, old-fashioned, Southern home-life in Virginia.” 

“That is sweet to me, Legend; but to be so happy and 
not do more for others makes me feel selfish. Of course 
I can preach ; though my sermons will be different from 
what they used to be. I have a note-book full that I have 
outlined while in bed. I can own a car and visit and 


178 


Evangeline op Ole Virginia 


doctor the sick; and be a clean citizen helping my 
neighborhood, giving the young folks entertainments, 
having ‘Boy Scout’ and ‘Camp-Fire Girl’s’ clubs with a 
string band for the girls and a brass band for the boys. 
When they can have splendid, good times in a clean way, 
they are not apt to go wrong.” 

“What are you going to do about ‘booze’ and women? 
You know the soldier does not like for you to refer to 
that subject.” 

“The worst sinner knows what he ought to be, and 
all respect good women. They regarded the appeal their 
officers made ‘to keep fighting fit’ and loyal to their com¬ 
rades; also the appeal for their souls from brave men 
who were at their elbow when they went over the top and 
suffered with them. It seems unfair to our nation for 
Uncle Sam to require cleanliness of life for just the good 
and strength he could get out of us to win the war, then 
when we return, pretend to be asleep while immoral liv¬ 
ing undermines the strength and health of wives and 
little children, and therefore, the future American army, 
when they could be fine specimens of manhood, to say 
nothing of the prosperity and example of our nation in 
times of peace. 

“As for women who are not what they ought to be, 
I can’t believe, with so many, that we should bring them 
into church and society to save. Their minds are not in 
the attitude to receive instruction or help. It will not 
do to put a rotten apple among good ones to save it. 
They belong to an institution—one like a convent, with 
beautiful walls and pictures, beautiful grounds, and 
sweet music, there trained by some kind motherly teacher 
with a heart full of love. There is where I would want 
a sister of mine to go. Some will be redeemed, others 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


179 


stay on like convicts, sentenced for life. Great factories 
could be run by the women like the latter, and be some 
use to the world; at least kept from harming others. But 
the factory must be run by women alone. Christ did not 
say to the woman, ‘Go free into society as you are,’ but 
“Go and sin no more.' I was eager for women to vote, 
thinking only of the good ones; then the truth dawned 
that there must be about two thirds of the other kind.” 

“You do not think much of the fair ones then?” 

“Yes, I do. The good ones are the sweetest creatures 
the Lord ever created, and the other kind are Satan’s 
own subjects.” 

“I heartily agree with you, and as to intoxicants, 
thanks to Evangeline, I am a teetotaler. When we were 
children and read together Miss Alcott’s ‘Eight Cousins,’ 
Prince Charming’s weakness for wine made a deep im¬ 
pression on me. He was disgraced and degraded in my 
eyes; and tears were in Evangeline’s. He had been her 
hero until that happened. 

“‘Oh! Maudrey, promise me you will never take one 
drop when you grow big; then you never can be over¬ 
come,’ she begged and I promised. 

“I never will forget my disgust at a banquet and 
fashionable dance in Washington given for the best, 
when a pretty society girl kept leaning so heavily upon 
my arm that I looked down and would not let myself 
believe what I thought—drunk. I took her to the open 
air, and my thoughts were confirmed. Champagne 
poured from that pretty mouth the same as the worst 
sot in the gutter. Oh! boy, you would not believe it was 
among the women in what is called the best society. It 
used to be moonshine stills in the mountains, now it’s 
baby moonshine stills in bathrooms, basements, and club- 


180 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


rooms of the wealthy, middle-class, and lower. I tell' 
you, Leigh, it will bring our £ Land of Liberty’ to 
the dogs. 

“The thing for us to do is to work for good, clean 
officers in our community, and then stand behind them. 
Why, what are called the best citizens are two-faced 
rascals that need to be in the convict gang, and made 
work when they get there. They bribe the officers, so 
the sot can still make it under their coat-tails, and boot¬ 
leg it too, sharing in the profit. I like to be law-abiding, 
but when our taxes (heavy, too) go to paying officers and 
court officials to enforce laws, and they are bribed on top 
of that and do nothing but protect the outlaw, then I am 
very much in favor of the Klu Klux Klan again to clean 
up the neighborhood. The United States is a great big 
place, but when each town and community cleans up, 
’twill be nation wide.” 

“Hasten the day, Klu Klux or something.” 

‘‘Uncle Sam will be bothered with socialism, too, I 
guess,” said Maudrey. “I never think of that, but that 
I think of two darkies who are twin brothers; one had 
plenty, the other nothing. Their preacher persuaded 
them that each one’s wife ought to have as good clothes 
as the other, so the well-to-do brother sold what he had 
and divided until each had the same. A year or two 
later the parson came back to visit. The one who had 
had plenty had invested his half well, and saved until 
he had a good home again. The other had come to 
poverty. 

“‘See heah, bruddah, yo’ ’vide agin.’ 

‘ ‘ ‘ No, sah, me an ’ muh wife wo ’ patched clo’s an ’ eat 
bread an’ watah neahly, soz we could have uh big house. 
Bill ’low hes big ez me an’ lies ole ’oman weahin’ jes’ 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


181 


bettah clo s an’ mine, an’ he don’t aim tuh wuk no mo’. 
He hain’t nuthah. Jes’ throw hes money right an’ lef’ 
fo’ dopes an’ stuff. Dah hain’t gwina be no ’vide, lessen 
yo’ pet ah poleese obah ’im tuh make ’im wuk; an’ den 
make ’im spen’ hit right w’en he gits hit made.’ ” 

*‘I agree with the brother and not the parson. For 
if the lazy brothers bribe the officers, as they do in regard 
to intoxicants, to let them go free and not enforce the 
law on them to do their part of honest work, how are the 
energetic going to keep up their own homes and those of 
the lazy parasites that want a divide made to save their 
own lazy bones while they loll about? Paul said that 
those that did not work could not eat.” 

“I remember something, too, that will please 
Evangeline.” 

“Then tell me.” 

“She wants a little industrial school near Leeland, 
where she can be queen of her own home and see after 
and help in the school too, with your aid also.” 

“How did you find that out?” 

“She often talked of it before the war, and told me, 
if she ever married, that was what she wanted to do. 
Just ask her when you get down at Nice this winter and 
she will tell you all about it. She wants to pick some 
of the most worthy mountain children, slum children, and 
even a few French ones for it. She has a plan to have 
the children support themselves in raising for market 
and for their own canning factory all kinds of fruits, 
berries, vegetables, and tomatoes on the farm at Leeland. 
She also plans for them to have large poultry farms in 
rough places, and dairies, besides their other training. 
She has one French teacher already engaged.” 

“I certainly am interested in that and we will plan 
it all out this winter. All this a crippled war-man like 


182 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


me can do, when I thought, at first, I could do nothing. 
Am not near as bad as Esther’s father—the cripple in 
Ben Hur. He could not move out of his chair, yet he 
kept the sea lively with ships coming and going. There 
is beauty in our lives if we let the Master Hand extricate 
the diamonds from the flesh dross. This generally 
requires fire—trials. ’ ’ 

“Well, there has been enough fire in this war to burn 
every bit of meat off of our bones. There ought to be 
some gold somewhere .” 

“How much Irish is there in your make-up?” 

They both laughed. 

“Do you remember the old mansion next to aunt 
Virginia’s? I own that now. Going to be your nearest 
neighbor.” 

“Good! We’ll make fine neighbors—together on 
religion, politics, temperance, etc.” 

“Well, while I was in bed, I built my bungalow and 
fitted it out several times in my day-dreams. Why, I 
could almost 

“‘Hear beneath my study, like a fluttering of wings, 

The voices of my children, and the mother as she 
sings.’ ” 

“Why, Legend!” 

“Sure. You did not know that I have a wagonload 
of dolls and other toys in the garret at Leeland, put 
away with Evangeline’s, for my kids. I have the place 
studied out where their Christmas trees are to stand. 
And I tell you right now, they are going to be mighty 
disappointed if no little cousins from Leeland join in 
their circle around the tree.” 

“Well, you’re the limit!” 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


183 


“No, sir. Don’t you ever have any dreams like 
that?” 

“No, ‘my truant fancy’ has never gotten any farther 
than ‘That Old Sweetheart of Mine.’ If I ever get a 
minister to give her to me to be my very own, my one 
dream will come true. But, Legend, our honeymoon 
shall last as long as we live; not like so many, last a few 
months until bread-making time comes. Then husband 
is too busy to give the hungry soul of his little wife, who 
has her cares too, a kiss and a fond word. Showered with 
kisses before, she now feels he loves money and a home 
more than her, and too often true. Women like my 
wife-to-be, if fed on true love and devotion, will suffer 
and even die for the one she loves. We shall have happy 
companionship together. Do not ask me too much of 
the future. For my own part, I would be in ecstasy 
should your dream for us both come to pass.” 

“Both our wives-to-be, I’m glad to say, are the 
Madonna type—Oh! boy, there comes cousin!” 

“Sorry I’m late,” she said pleasantly. “How have 
you amused yourselves?” 

“Do you remember, one time a year or two ago, 
about me telling you how nice it would be for Leigh and 
me to discuss politics while you and Muriel were busy 
at your fancywork?” 

“Yes, I remember,” reluctantly. 

“Well, we’ve practiced a few rounds on that and 
kindred subjects; and we agree so far.” 

“Would you mind telling it over to me?” 

“No, Shakespeare never repeats. Does lie, Leigh?” 
with a teasing look at the latter. 

“I think not, just now,” and a dry smile played over 
his lips, as he gave Maudrey a warning glance. 


184 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


“He is going to be my family physician, Bethany’s 
pastor, and teacher of the Bible class in Sunday school. 
I’ll try to head the agricultural department and help in 
many ways with the young folks’ clubs. We are going 
to do our best to be model citizens. I may have to be 
captain of a Klu Klux Klan. Will you make the white 
uniforms?” 

“Yes, with all my heart.” 

Leigh felt relieved that Maudrey was through, for the 
postman’s ring sounded just then and the latter went 
to the door for the day’s paper. Looking over the head¬ 
lines he exclaimed, 

‘ ‘ Somebody from my home-town is in France ! Listen 
while I read, 

“‘President Wilson landed in France at 3:24 Friday 
afternoon amid such demonstrations of enthusiasm as 
has never been accorded the head of a foreign govern¬ 
ment—the first entry of an American president into 
personal contact with Europe. His arrival in the harbor 
was the culmination of an imposing naval spectacle, 
which began as the presidential fleet entered the outer 
capes and moved majestically into the harbor, where the 
George Washington anchored at the head of a long 
double column of American dreadnaughts and destroyers 
and the units of a French cruiser squadron. Vast crowds 
watched the trip ashore, and the fleets of warships roared 
a salute as the last stage of the journey was finished. 
As the boat touched the pier, the French and American 
guards of honor presented arms, and the strains of ‘ ‘ The 
Star Spangled Banner” mingled with the cheers of the 
great multitude. Mrs. Wilson came up the gangway 
with Gen. Pershing. As she passed the American 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


185 


nurses, they handed her an American flag, which she 
bore proudly with her large bouquet. Stephen Pinchon, 
French foreign minister, and George Leygues, minister 
of marine, joined the President as he stepped ashore, and 
conducted him to a beautiful decorated pavilion. 

‘ ‘ ‘ Here the first formal welcome was given him as 
guest of the French nation. His arrival at the capital 
was greeted with a salvo of artillery in salute, and dense 
throngs hailed his coming with volleys of cheering.’ 

‘ ‘ Hurrah ! for President Wilson! I want him to help 
the rulers over here get things arranged, so it will be a 
mighty long time before we have to cross that pond again 
to settle these Germans,” added Maudrey. “There’s 
nothing the matter with President Wilson, except that 
he is several years ahead of his age.” 

’Twas Leigh’s third trip out in a car. They were 
standing on one of England’s green rolling hills, looking 
away over the bay to valleys and hills beyond. 

“Legend,” said Leon all at once. “I’m sick. Fix 
me a place to lie down.” 

With Evangeline’s aid Maudrey soon had the 
cushions and lap-robe of the car into a comfortable rest¬ 
ing place. She dampened a handkerchief and tied it 
around his forehead, and with another bathed his face. 

“Are you in pain, Leigh?” asked Maudrey, seeing 
he was so white. 

“Not much, just deathly sick,” and he began spitting 
up quite a lot of blood. 

“Put his head high, Maudrey, and mix some salt 
from the lunch in cold water for him to drink,” and her 
hands trembled as she wiped the blood from his mouth. 
He looked lovingly into her eyes and pressed one of her 
hands gently. 


186 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


But with all they did, the blood still flowed freer and 
freer. Evangeline was nearly as white as he was, for 
he fainted then and there. While they worked with him, 
Maudrey kept an eye on her. Finally he said, 

“What did Leigh say about the surgeon saying he 
would have to keep out of high altitudes? Maybe that’s 
it, but I do not think this is high.” 

“Yes, sir, but it is,” spoke up the chauffeur. 

“Here then, man, help us get him down to that little 
grove by the stream.” 

Bringing the ear up close they lifted him in, and 
down by the brook under a tree they lifted him out 
again. After a bit, as they still bathed his face, the flow 
got less and less and he was saying, 

“I’m—no—baby. I could not—help—it.” 

“Never you mind,” said Maudrey. “We ought to 
have known better than take you to that high place. 
We are both so sorry.” 

“We certainly are.” 

“You — did — not know. My — surgeon — knows— 

best,” and he pressed her hand again. 

“Do not talk, but rest a long time and sleep if you 
can, so you can stand the ride home. We have sent the 
chauffeur for the ambulance.” 

It came after a few hours and with it the young 
surgeon, who examined Leon when he awoke and asked 
him a number of questions before he would start home 
with him. And there never were nicer comforts in an 
ambulance than in the one in which he rode to the 
hospital again. 


CHAPTER XXXV 


“And we should be so happy 

That when either’s lips were dumb, 

They would not smile in Heaven 
Till the other’s kiss had come.” 

Merry chimes from one of the most beautiful cathe¬ 
drals of Paris rang on the still night air; and its windows 
were ablaze with light. 

“There’s to be a double wedding there tonight,” said 
a passerby, “an American lieutenant and an aviator. 
Quite a swell affair—Foch, Pershing, Haig, and so on, 
among the guests; also any soldier who wants to come, 
until the house is full. In one room of the basement 
there is a table of wedding-presents from soldiers of all 
the allied nations. Two of the handsomest bridal- 
chambers in Paris are engaged for the couples tonight, 
and tomorrow they go south.” 

The last few days had been glorious ones for the 
bridegrooms and brides-to-be. First, when they again 
stepped upon French soil from a British liner, an 
American ship came into harbor, bringing Muriel, much 
to Maudrey’s delight, who announced that four was not 
a crowd. Then came trips over the battlefields with 
their visitor, and Maudrey had to take her a flight in an 
airplane. 

But the greatest day for all was when their little 
group was seated in a grandstand on the parade-ground 
while the band played. Afterward speeches were made, 
recounting their deeds; then General Pershing placed 
upon each of the three a Distinguished Service Cross, 
followed by King George with the British pin for Leon 


188 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


alone. Neither was the carrier pigeon forgotten, but bore 
around its neck the cross as proudly as any of them. 

In one of the great hotels, the night of the wedding, 
the porters vied with each other in being chief valet for 
the bridegrooms. After much debating, they wore dress- 
suits of elegant material, conventional black, with a tube¬ 
rose in each buttonhole and white gloves. 

“We have been Cinderella in the ashes long enough. 
’Tis time for Cinderella at the party. I used to think 
you and I would have to go to our wedding in wheel 
chairs; but I tell you, Leigh, you look splendid!” 

“Same to you, Legend. No one, except our brides, 
will ever notice what we wear. Everyone’s eyes will be 
upon them. At Nice I engaged a bedroom for you and 
one for me, with a sitting-room between for both. All 
three overlook the beach.” 

“Good! I’ll stay a month anyway. I want Muriel 
to have a nice bridal-trip. We will visit Switzerland and 
other places and then go home to see to the building of 
our bungalow. We will be quite at home when you and 
Evangeline get back after the winter is over.” 

There was a knock on the door. A porter entered 
and delivered two boxes that Muriel had brought from 
home. 

“ Oh! boy! See here, Leigh, what father has sent 
us—pale blue and pink silk pajamas, three pairs each. 
I bet Muriel did not know what was in this box. Holy 
smoke! Elegant dressing-gowns and bedroom slippers 
for both. When wee wifies are lounging in kimonos with 
the latest magazine, we can strut in handsome dressing- 
gowns and slippers. Forgotten, oh ye trenches!” 

Meanwhile Muriel and Evangeline were unfolding 
beautiful bridal dresses of white satin with silver mesh- 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


189 


work shimmering in the light all over them. Then lovely 
blue and pink silk slumber-robes, all laces and ribbons, 
also kimonos with slippers to match. They had been 
packed in delicious perfumes so long that the room 
was filled with the fragrance? But the loveliest of all 
were the bridal-veils from Paris, on crowns studded with 
orange-blossoms; they came with the shower-bouquets 
the bridegrooms had sent up. 

“If your heart’s any farther up in your mouth than 
mine is, you’ll get rid of that piece of shrapnel yet,” said 
Maudrey, when a maid announced that the young ladies 
were ready. 

“Twin brides, true as the world. Guess this one is 
mine,” and he took Evangeline by the arm and went 
marching off, singing, “Here comes the bride!” to tease 
both Muriel and Leon. 

“With your leave, Leigh, I’ll kiss her once before she 
is an old married woman.” No sooner said than done. 
“Let me give the bride away,” as he gracefully escorted 
his cousin to Leon and bowed low. 

The latter said nothing, but his eyes looked his adora¬ 
tion; then, with a little courtesy, he offered his arm to 
his bride. Maudrey saluted Muriel, and they proceeded 
through the canopied archway from the hotel to the 
waiting limousines. 

“Guess we will carry away enough rice to board us 
a month by the time the boys get through with us,” 
said Maudrey. 

As planned, the band played the wedding-march in a 
lower room of the cathedral to give it the softness of 
distance. Up the center aisle the bridal party came 
through a regular corridor formed by two rows of 
soldiers in uniform, who held their guns crossed for the 


190 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


procession to pass under, all the way from the door to 
the rostrum. At the altar one couple went to the left, 
the other to the right until they met, facing the audience, 
under a great arch of flowers with an American flag 
floating from the top. The band played softly while the 
chaplain, a friend of Leigh’s, performed the marriage 
ceremony. 

“As unto the bow the cord is, 

So unto man is woman. 

Though she bends him, she obeys him. 

Though she leads him, yet she follows— 

Useless each without the other.” 

Marriage was instituted in the wonderful garden of 
Eden, when the Lord himself brought unto the sinless 
Adam the beautiful innocent Eve; taken 

“Not from his feet, that she should be his slave, 

Not from his head, that she should rule over him, 

But from his side, to be his helpmate and equal: 
Under his strong arm, that he may protect her; 

Next to his warm heart to love and cherish her.” 

Far up in the cathedral the carrier pigeon dipped 
downward to a pillow of roses just in front of the 
minister, with the rings around its neck, one on pink 
ribbon, one on blue. 

When the vows were to be taken, Evangeline’s 
answer was, 


“I will follow thee, my husband.” 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


191 


And Leon’s in return, 

“Evangeline, 

“‘In life’s delight, 

In death’s dismay, 

Through storm and sunshine, 

Night and day, 

Here and hereafter 
I am thine.’” 

When the other couple had given the same vows, and 
each were pronounced man and wife, the band began to 
play louder, and the wedding party passed down the 
aisle, and out to the waiting limousines that were to 
conduct them to the banquet-hall. In a few minutes, 
all to themselves, Leon had his first kiss from his 
bride’s lips. 

“All my very own.” 

Inside the car just ahead, the same scene was 
transpiring. 

In the great parlor after the banquet, General 
Pershing sought the couples out as they stood together 
saying goodbye to their guests. 

“How are you standing the evening?” said he to 
Leigh, saluting. 

“A little tired, but doing very nicely, thank you.” 

Placing his hand on the latter’s shoulder, the 
General said, 

“To this young man there is due the third pin, to be 
placed upon him by President Wilson in the states. 

“I can w 7 ish for the group no greater honor than that, 
when the warfare of life is over, up there will be given 
you the greatest ‘Distinguished Service Cross.’ To all— 
goodnight.” 


192 


Evangeline of Ole Virginia 


There lives today , close to the mountains of Virginia, 
a practicing physician who wears the souvenir of the 
Hun over his heart as described in this book. 


“And when my time has come to die, 
Just take me back and let me lie 
Close where the mountains tower high, 
Down in Virginia.” 





































■ 






















‘y- 












































































